Kiss Me I'm Drunk Don't Worry It's True
by nubianamy
Summary: Kurt's boyfriend takes a sabbatical in Barcelona, so Puck decides it's up to him to help him feel better by taking him on a gay cruise. Puck's boyfriend Dave is a reluctant participant at best. Karaoke, dancing and hot tubbing lead to inevitable consequences. A follow-up to So Nothing's Left Unturned. Written with Penthea8 for the Kurt-OT3 Big Bang. Art by Evian Fork.
1. Chapter 1

Awesome playlist (YouTube): www. youtube playlist?list=PL1D40BD156E2DE4EE

and a slightly modified one for download (iTunes): www. mediafire ?p4d1l7jhg7zshja

Fantastic art by Evian_Fork, including the playlist cover, can be found at: nubianamy. minus mybSFHvpd/

* * *

_What do you want  
What do you want from us  
To ask you this much is just a matter of trust, not an affront  
What do you want_

_What do you want  
Few would be true to your point of view if they knew what you want  
Who here would choose to walk in those shoes  
Even you can't  
So what do you want  
What do you want from us  
What do you want_

_What do you want  
What do you want that you cannot say  
Show us the faith we're supposed to display  
Come what may - you can't  
What do you want  
What do you want from us  
What do you want_

_What do you want  
What do you want from us  
It's a matter of trust that you tell us just what you want from us_

Gotye, "What Do You Want"

* * *

Dave knew he'd never tell Kurt about the dream. But Puck - well, there wasn't much that was hidden between them, not even the crazy scary stuff that embarrassed the crap out of him even to think about it. So, that morning, getting dressed, he considered it. At breakfast he thought about it again, and yet again while feeding the cats.

Puck was breaking in a new purple belt. Out of the cellophane, they were very stiff and nearly impossible to tie properly, so he always went through this routine of twisting and worrying them in his hands before presenting them to a student, just to get them soft enough to wear. Dave watched the tendons in his forearms stand out as Puck wrestled with the heavy layers of fabric.

"When's his belt test?" Dave said, getting the eggs out of the fridge.

"Her," said Puck. "It's on Sunday. She's ready. I don't think she thinks she is, though."

Dave watched Puck's shoulders, the way he was breathing a little too fast, the clenching of his strong fingers around the belt as he twisted. "Somebody I know?"

Puck didn't look at him, but his mouth turned up in a little smile. "Look who's so fucking intuitive."

"Look who knows the word intuitive." Dave cracked two eggs into a bowl and added a little water, whisking them together. He smashed a couple garlic cloves with salt and added them to the hot oil. "It's Beth, isn't it?"

"She's been putting it off for weeks. I think it's because I'm not teaching her classes now? I mean, she's got this great instructor, don't get me wrong, but she tells me all the time how she misses me at the dojo, how it's not the same anymore since I moved to Columbus." He rolled his eyes at Dave. "Seriously, I think it's just that she's pissed I'm not there to take her out for ice cream afterwards."

"Priorities, when you're nine," Dave agreed. He threw in a handful of chives and some chopped olives. "So you think she's ready."

"Totally." Puck gave the belt another ferocious twist. "She knows all the forms; she's got great posture; her kicks are strong. Even sparring, she can hold her own against the bigger kids, and you know how tiny she is. I think they underestimate her because she's a girl. And blonde."

Dave nodded slowly. "You don't think that maybe she's afraid?"

"Afraid?" Puck scoffed. "Beth's not afraid of shit. What do you think she'd be afraid of?"

"All kinds of stuff. Screwing up, making a mistake. Embarrassing herself. Disappointing you."

Something in Dave's voice must have tipped Puck off that this wasn't just about Beth's purple belt test. He paused and set the belt on the table, watching Dave add eggs to the pan.

"Okay," Puck said slowly, and paused again. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, waiting. Dave gritted his teeth and sighed.

"I had... a dream. About somebody."

"A dream. Like, a sex dream?"

Dave winced. "_Yeah,_ a sex dream. And it was really awful, and I don't particularly want to talk about it." _Yeah, that's believable, considering you're the one bringing it up, Dave._

"Awful, huh?" Puck grinned. "So awful you were grossed out, or so awful you were really fucking turned on? And - wait, this was last night?" He drank his juice and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Huh. Maybe I should assume it was the second one, then?"

"God." Dave closed his eyes, moving carefully away from the hot stove first. "I don't know why I said anything at all."

"Hey, don't feel like you have to. Sex dreams, you know, they're like... construction cones." He gestured with his juice, sloshing it a little. "You don't _have_ to pay attention to them, but they're there, pointing something out. Saying, hey, you should probably slow down a little, and look at what you're doing."

Dave decided, at this rate, he'd better get the eggs out of the pan before they burned. He spooned them into a bowl and covered them with a handful of cheese. "Construction cones. You're warped, you know that?"

"Hey, you're the one with the awful sex dream." Puck's pose, leaning back in his chair, legs splayed, was far too cocky. He reached down to scratch Pascal's back as the cat walked by. "So are you going to tell me about it or not?"

"Not. Definitely not." Dave glared at the bowl of eggs.

"You're not going to tell me? So why'd you mention it, then?"

_He's being way too fucking logical. _"It was stupid anyway. Forget it."

Puck eyebrows flickered up, then down, and he bent down to scoop Pascal into his lap. "I bet I know who was in it."

Dave didn't say anything, because really, when it came down to the people Dave had ever had sexual fantasies about, the sample size just wasn't that big. Puck accepted a plate of eggs with a smile, and they ate breakfast without further mention of Dave's dream. It wasn't until after Puck had finished the dishes that he took Dave's hand and hauled him into a kiss. Dave didn't resist very long.

"What was that for?" he asked, a little dazed, and Puck shook his head, giving him a gentle push toward the stairs.

"Too much talking. What, you think telling me about your sordid sex fantasies _isn't_ going to turn me on?"

That did seem to be the case, and Dave could only feel a little guilty about it, because he knew Puck was totally into him, and no matter what kind of dreams he'd had, Dave wasn't actually wanting anybody else.

Except, apparently, he _was,_ because Puck leaned close against his ear in the middle of everything and whispered, "Tell me your dream."

"Right _now?"_ Dave groaned, and Puck's teeth drew the groan out further as his hands splayed across Dave's back, pulling him in deeper.

"Yeah, babe, right now. Come on." Puck's breathing was already short, and he made that completely irresistible whimpering noise as Dave's thrusts became forceful and erratic. "God."

"You're completely fucking insane." But really, Dave wasn't fooling either of them, because he could feel just what his rough voice and intensified movements were doing to Puck. He wrapped a hand around Puck's neck and pulled him into his chest. He was _not_ going to be able to look Puck in the eye while he said... what he was going to say. He took a deep breath.

"It was at McKinley," he said. Because it was always at McKinley with Kurt, even long after he stopped admitting even to himself he was still having fantasies about him. "In the hallway, after school. Nobody was around. Over by the trophy case. He... he got down on his knees."

Puck's response was immediate and really not very surprising to Dave, but that didn't make it less hot to feel him go boneless and thrust helplessly against Dave's stomach. "Fuck."

Dave could see the image so clearly, still, the way Kurt had gazed up at him, pleading with his eyes, his lips trembling. "He... begged me. Unzipped my jeans, and... god, Puck, you really want -"

"Yeah," Puck said, tucking a hand down in between their bodies and gripping himself firmly. "I do, come _on. _What else?"

He didn't even have to reach to remember the details, which maybe was the most embarrassing thing of all. "I could hear... the janitor's footsteps, down the hall, the slam of each door, his vacuum, as he got closer to us... still far enough away, but it was definitely risky..."

"Was that hot?" Puck said, and it did kind of sound like he was begging a little. "To hear him, to know he could have found you any time?"

"Maybe?" Dave was embarrassed enough, thinking of Kurt, of the way he'd shamelessly dug his fingers into Dave's hips, the way his mouth looked, his eyes impossibly blue in the still-pale face of his high school self.

"I can feel just how hot it is for you, babe. So what'd he do? Did he make you come so hard...?"

"No - actually, we got interrupted." It wasn't anything, it was just the stupid logic of dreams, because really, he could have been doing anything. Dreams were symbols, maybe, but - he clasped Puck tighter, feeling the tension build between them. "That was pretty much it."

He felt a little bad for cutting Puck's enjoyment of his fantasy so short, but Puck rolled with it, and neither of them were complaining five minutes later. Lying on his back, recovering his equilibrium and letting his stomach muscles uncurl, Dave felt Puck's gentle hand on his chest. It still surprised him how delicate Puck's touch could be.

"What else happened?" he asked. He wasn't demanding anything now. Dave glanced down at him, surprised.

"What makes you think there was anything else?"

"You think I'm going to give away your tells? Forget it."

"Oh, that's going to make me feel safe, sharing this shit with you," Dave grumbled. Puck chuckled and rolled in, throwing one leg over his thighs.

"You don't have to tell me. But you can, you know. I don't care what it is."

_Yeah, you might._ Dave sighed and ran a hand over Puck's velvet head. "The guy. The one who interrupted us. It was... uh, it was the janitor."

"Yeah?" Puck sounded curious. "What was he -"

"He was you, okay?" That came out a little harsher than he intended, and Puck cut off short.

"Oh." After a brief pause, Puck let his hand find Dave's, and he held on tight. "Was I... I mean, how'd I react?"

Dave thought of dream-janitor-Puck's completely unsurprised expression, not excited, not egging him on, but just silently watching, and his barely perceptible nod as their eyes met. "You were... fine, I guess."

Puck leaned in a little closer, and kissed Dave's shoulder. "Yeah. I guess I would be, huh?"

* * *

Dave could tell Kurt and Puck were discussing spring break over the phone. Again. He could hear the odd word around the corner from the kitchen, but he was trying to ignore it as best he could, and focus on the spaghetti sauce. It wouldn't do any good to get annoyed about it. Not yet, anyway.

"Okay, man," he heard, and Puck appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He had this unconscious (or, possibly entirely intentional) male model pose thing down, and Dave didn't even bother not staring in appreciation. He knew Puck didn't mind. "We'll talk about it. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Don't go shopping for summer outfits yet. Yeah. Tell Vincent hi from me when you talk to him. See you."

He kept his eyes on the saucepan. "How's Kurt doing, then?"

"Not so good. He's pretty lonely. Vincent doesn't have any time for him to visit at all this spring, and it's getting him down, you know?" Puck shrugged. "I mean, I can't even imagine spending a year away from you. That would totally suck. I think I would lose my mind."

Dave nodded, still looking at the sauce. "Yeah, I know." A year apart - he couldn't really imagine it, and he tried not to, anyway. For now, he and Puck were in Columbus, together. No use worrying about it.

Pascal jumped down from the kitchen chair where he was curled up and padded over to the stove, rubbing against Dave's ankles and meowing. Dave knew he wouldn't give up until he got some kind of tidbit, but tomato sauce probably wasn't very good for cats, so he dropped a piece of sausage on the floor. Because he was a fair-minded individual, he cut another small slice and left it in Penumbra's bowl, for her to enjoy whenever she came out of hiding.

"Just... I thought we should do something for him, you know? Because he's your best friend and all."

Dave decided not to mention the fact that Puck had been on the phone with Kurt as much as Dave had, these past months. And Puck and Vincent talked about soccer for what seemed like hours. Really, it wasn't clear at all whose friends were whose anymore. But Dave didn't mind it. There was nothing wrong with Puck trying to help Kurt out here. It was nice. Thoughtful.

Puck leaned in and dipped a wooden spoon in the saucepan, filching a sample. "So we were talking... he's got this week of vacation time saved up, and Connor can handle the dojo for a week while you're on spring break. Right?" He tasted the sauce. "Mmmm. What's that, basil?"

"Right," Dave said slowly, because he wasn't sure if he liked the direction this was going, but nothing Puck was saying was wrong. "Yeah, basil and oregano. Does it need more?"

"You know I'm always in favor of more." Puck grinned at Dave and picked up a handful of dried herbs, tossing them into the saucepan where the oil was already hot. He shoved them around a little with the spatula before handing it to Dave. Puck didn't have any patience for cooking. Things mostly ended up getting burned.

Puck pulled out a chair and sat backwards on it, watching Dave cook. "Yeah, so we thought, someplace warm might be good, take his mind off things... give him something to do. You know, something fun." He shrugged. "Maybe meet somebody."

"So what you're saying is, you and Kurt want to go party on a beach somewhere with disgusting neon drinks and not a lot of clothes."

"No, man." Puck's smile reached brilliance. "We want you to come along, too."

Dave snorted. "Yeah, that would be perfect. I'd fit right in. Come on." He stirred the sauce some more.

"You'd have a great time. No, I'm serious! Don't give me that fucking look. Kurt read all about it. There's 24-hour room service, all inclusive, and a casino, and an observation deck with telescopes, and -"

Dave stopped what he was doing and turned towards him. "You mean you actually have somewhere - wait. Observation deck?"

"Uh." The table was suddenly of great interest to Puck. "Maybe." After a moment, he glanced up, and seeing the world wasn't ending, he launched back into his description. "And there's all these day trips off the ports of call, I mean, it's not all one big party, we could go hiking and kayaking and... what?"

Dave stared at him. "A cruise. You actually want me to go on a cruise with you."

This time the ceiling was of utmost importance. "Yeah. A... well, a gay cruise."

"A gay -" Dave laughed. "Are you fucking serious? Look at me. Does this look like a person who would like to go on a gay cruise?" The only good thing he could see about the idea was that it was too ridiculous to get angry about.

"Come on, it's for Kurt! It's just what he needs. I could totally hook him up with somebody hot and take his mind off missing Vincent for at least a week. Seriously, what's the use of taking a break from a relationship if you're not going to _take a break?"_ Puck shook his head in obvious irritation. "And you know Kurt, he's just moping around doing nothing every weekend, watching those cheesy musicals of his. He's going to turn into a freaking couch potato. He needs some help from his friends." Puck pointed at him. "From _you. _Dude. Come on."

Okay, so Puck obviously meant well, and it was hard not to give in a little when he looked like that. "Look, you know I want to help. I care about him. It's just...really not my thing, okay? I like...sports, and pizza, and...cats and crossword puzzles. Not cruises."

"They have pizza on cruises, too," he protested. "And I bet they have satellite. You can sit in the bar all night and watch whatever you want. Nobody's going to _make_ you have a good time."

Dave shook his head. "I know. It just seems like such a waste of time and money."

Puck sighed and stood up. "I wasn't going to do this, but... okay, you leave me no choice. That GRE thing you wanted me to take?" He waved his hand in the air, like he was brushing away a particularly pesky insect. "Fine. I'll take it. You go on this cruise with us, and I'll apply to whatever graduate programs you tell me to."

"You know I'm going to hold you to that." Puck did seem like he was serious. It wasn't even so much the test - he did very much want Puck to take it, but he thought he might be able to make that happen anyway. But if this was important enough to Puck that he'd offer... it was hard to say no to that.

Puck moved to stand behind Dave and wrapped his arms around him, resting his head on Dave's back. "Whatever. That test is a waste of time and money, too. Because you know I'm going to fuck up the reading, so don't get your hopes up."

"That's fine. You just need to show up and try...we'll see later who was right about the results."

"So... you'll do it?" Puck's lips paused on Dave's neck for just a moment. "Can I call him and say he can book the tickets?"

Dave sighed. "Yeah. Okay."

"Awesome." But Puck didn't move from where he was; his lips just grazed along his skin to another location. "You done with that sauce?"

"I could be," Dave allowed. He sighed again, this time for a different reason, and tilted his head so Puck could have better access.

"Because there might be some other ways I can show up and try, here," he murmured, his hand sneaking up under Dave's shirt. "Unless you're hungry and want to eat first."

"Yeah...I mean, no, not hungry." Dave moved his arm out of the way, and relaxed, giving in to Puck and his lips and hands. There was no reason not to - it kept surprising him, but he really couldn't come up with anything, so he turned around and leaned against the counter, pulling Puck along with him. "So let's see what happens when you try."


	2. Chapter 2

Puck's wardrobe for the cruise consisted of six pairs of shorts, six tank tops, a _very_ brief bathing suit and a pair of flip-flops. "Hey, I'm wearing my Tevas, too," he said, pointing. "I wouldn't go hiking in those things. But I'm not coming if they make me dress up."

Dave just looked at him. Puck genuinely didn't seem to see any sort of problem with that plan. "Shoes are dressing up?" he asked. "And don't you think you might want at least a pair of pants and a shirt, for...dinners or whatever? Just in case."

Puck shrugged. "Okay." He usually listened to Dave when he gave rational advice like that.

"Don't take those out, though," Dave said, eyeing first Puck and then the very small pile of clothes. He stepped up beside Puck and put an arm around his hips. "It is a cruise. And if I get too tired of chasing guys away, I can just make you wear some of my clothes for a while." He grinned at the derisive look on Puck's face.

"Whatever. First of all, that song in RENT, where she's singing all, like, ever since puberty, boys, girls, I can't help it? That's me. Clothes ain't gonna change much." Puck made an impatient gesture as he browsed through the clothes in their closet. "And second, I don't care how many gorgeous guys go following my ass around on this cruise. I'm here for two reasons: number one, to get Kurt laid, and number two, to destroy everyone at the casino at poker." He grinned. "And third... can I have a third? Okay, then, third... you know I'm totally hot for _you._ Everybody else can look all they want. I'm not saying I won't look back, but that's all I'm gonna let them do, understand?"

"All right." Dave laughed. "That's okay, you can do that, and you can wear whatever you want, and you'll look amazing doing it, just like always."

"You bet your ass I will." Puck held out a natty pinstriped suit. "This good enough?"

"You know exactly what you look like in that. Yes, it's good enough. You'll be the best dressed poker player there."

"Hey, if you want to show me off, I don't mind." Puck smirked. He carefully folded the suit into the garment bag and hung it on the door. "They can check out my guns while I'm kicking their asses and raking in all their chips."

Kurt's wardrobe apparently consisted of rather more than six pairs of shorts, because he told Dave he needed two hands and a wheeled dolly to transport his bags to the airline check-in counter. "You can help me carry everything once we get there," he said on the phone.

"Sure, why not." Dave sighed.

"Really, David, I can't believe you're going along with this." Kurt sounded doubtful. "I can't imagine you're going to have a good time at all."

Dave secretly agreed with him, but the whole point of this was to cheer Kurt up, after all. "I don't know, maybe Puck is right. I might be surprised."

The flight to Miami was uneventful. Dave made sure their own bags were taken care of before they met Kurt at the baggage claim. He hugged him, and tried not to look around to see who was watching when Kurt hugged Puck, too. It was a _gay cruise,_ after all (and somehow those two words, together, always made him twitch a little). There would be plenty of guys touching other guys and nobody was going to think twice.

"I wanted to say first thing that this is really sweet of you, Puck," Kurt said, gripping his arm. "I really did need a vacation. This whole week is just going to be about relaxing, taking it easy, and not worrying about the stack of appallingly bad unread screenplays waiting for me at home."

Puck shook his head. "You may think that's what it's about, Hummel, but I've got other plans for you. You like poker?"

"That's the thing with cards, right?"

Puck explained the math behind winning at poker to Kurt in amusing layman's terms while they waited in line to board. Kurt listened politely, but Dave could tell he was distracted.

"You okay?" he asked quietly. "Missing your math genius?"

Kurt smiled wistfully. "Sorry, I'll try not to make it all about me. Or Vincent. He's glad we're doing this, but I could tell, he wishes he were here, too. And he'd be all over the poker, trust me."

Distracted or not, Kurt did seem to be in reasonably good spirits. He told Dave and Puck about Vincent's project in Barcelona - "Though, really, it's an excuse to attend all the soccer games." - without any trouble. He didn't even object when Puck struck up a conversation with the guy behind them in line and managed to work in the fact that Kurt was single.

"I guess, technically," Kurt agreed, with a smile. Dave saw the backing-away-slowly expression on the guy's face - he couldn't actually leave, standing in line - and looked down, trying to hide his smile. Puck looked a little annoyed, but there was nothing for him to put his finger on about why. Kurt had been perfectly friendly and truthful. So Puck just kept chatting to the guy, Andrew, who seemed willing to shift his focus to him instead.

Dave studied the customs posters on the wall. If he was going to survive this week, peaceful neutrality was clearly the way to go.

"So give it to me straight, Hummel," Puck hissed, as the line split and they finally bid Andrew a very awkward farewell. "_Are you_ or _aren't you_ single?Because I'm getting two different answers from you and Vincent, and that doesn't make any kind of logical sense."

"You're asking the wrong question," said Kurt. He flashed his ID, confirmed to the starstruck attendant that he was indeed _that_ Kurt Hummel, and smiled graciously as she shook his hand. "It's not that I _can't_ see other people. It's that I don't particularly _want_ to."

Puck grumbled, but Dave could tell he wasn't giving up. "There's no way I'm going to let him go through this whole fucking cruise like that," he muttered, giving his carry-on a little shove in front of him. "He's _going_ to have fun, and I'm going to be there to make sure of it."

Dave thought this was a little ambitious of Puck, but he also knew saying anything about it would be more like a challenge than an observation, so he kept his mouth shut. Maybe if Puck was busy making Kurt have fun, Dave could escape unnoticed at least some of the time.

Neither Kurt's cabin nor Puck and Dave's cabin had windows. Dave didn't see how it really mattered that they were on a boat at all. They couldn't feel the movement of the ship anyway; it was exactly like being in a tiny, cramped motel room.

"Cute," Kurt said, peeking into their cabin. "Looks like mine, only reversed. Small, but I'm charmed by the towel swans."

Dave sat down on the bed. He was sure the towel swan couldn't actually be staring at him accusingly, having no eyes, being a fucking towel. The tilt of its terrycloth neck still seemed to be saying something like: _Why are you on a cruise ship anyway, if you can't appreciate my awesomeness? _So what if it had a point. Dave grabbed it by its so-called neck and shook it forcefully, producing a fairly ordinary white towel.

He shrugged at Puck's glare. "What? I want to wash my face."

"Violent way to do it," Puck muttered.

Dave took his towel, went into the bathroom, and half-heartedly splashed a bit of water on his face and hands. Maybe he should try a little harder not to ruin this for the others. It didn't have to be so bad. He dried himself off, hung the former swan on one of the hooks on the wall, and stepped back out, trying not to glower at Puck and Kurt, who were browsing the room service menu.

"Okay," Dave said, not exactly apologizing, but at least gathering all the enthusiasm he had and then some. "Ready to go take a look around?"

Kurt looked at him curiously. "Yes, David, let's do that." He could definitely detect a hint of...something, in Kurt's voice, but he was going to let it go and take it at face value. Better get used to that right away. "Puck?"

Puck nodded, got up and put on his shoes. "Dude, we're on a cruise, and so far I haven't actually seen any water. I need to get the fuck above board and see for myself that we're not just in a big concrete bunker in Miami somewhere."

Dave led their little group through the corridors until they came to a stairwell, and, refusing to join the gaggle of happy, excited passengers waiting for the elevators, started walking. Kurt strode along silently behind. Puck jogged a few steps to come up beside Dave. "We're finding the gym, right? And the pool?"

Dave had to smile, in spite of himself. "Yeah."

"Great." Puck grinned. He tapped a poster on the wall beside the elevator door. "Hey, check it out; there's a poker tournament on Friday."

Dave studied it. It seemed harmless, and the way Puck lit up made it hard to be too grumpy about it, but he couldn't say he was thrilled. "You're going to make me do that thing, aren't you?"

Puck grinned and nudged Kurt. "There's a whole system I've worked out, but it requires two people. Dave's terrible at it. Something about being a bad liar, I guess. You want to be my wingman?"

Kurt shrugged. "If you're willing to take the risk I'll say something completely inane and inaccurate about whatever game we're playing. I can't guarantee I'll be convincing at cards."

"Oh, you just have to lose," Puck assured him. "Spectacularly, but I'll cover your losses out of my winnings."

His eyebrow went up. "You're so sure you'll win?"

"Yeah," Dave said, with an unavoidable sigh. "He'll win." He eyed Puck. "I could totally lie, if I wanted to."

"Wait, _you're_ sure he'll win, too? That sounds like cheating to me." Kurt looked from Dave to Puck with a grin. He might have had a bag of popcorn from the avid expression on his face.

"Here we go again." Puck rolled his eyes. "Look, it's not _cheating._ It's psychology. I'm just playing on people's insecurities."

"And counting cards," Dave interjected in an undertone. "But we're not mentioning that, right?"

Puck ignored him. "There are a few rules of thumb, about when to fold, and when to play tight or loose, but other than that, it's all about finesse. I'm just good at reading people's body language."

"Aaaaand counting cards," murmured Dave. Kurt smothered a laugh as the elevator door slid open. The three men standing inside were dressed for the beach, in the sort of attire Dave had encouraged Puck to pack, complete with sunglasses and towels. Puck stepped in first, giving the blonde one a friendly smile.

"You guys heading for the pool? Mind if we tag along?"

"Sure," said the dark-haired one. Dave didn't like the look he was giving Puck, particularly the ones directed at his shoulders, but he figured he was going to have to get used to it for the next six days.

"Cool. And..." Puck put an arm around Kurt's shoulder, drawing him forward and patting his immaculately crisp shirt front. "Have you met Kurt?"

* * *

Dinner was a group affair, with large round tables unavoidably set for ten. Dave resolved to sit between Kurt and Puck, partly to keep Puck from introducing Kurt to every random guy who walked by, but mostly to provide some insulation between him and the noise and clamor of the restaurant. Puck ordered a whiskey sour; Kurt chose some ridiculously sweet drink that had more than one kind of fruit flavor in it.

"And for you?" asked the waiter, looking at Dave expectantly.

"Oh, sorry. A beer for me, please." Tap water would have been fine, he really didn't care, but he could have a beer if it might keep Puck from trying to cheer him up.

The six other guys at their table weren't strangers for long, thanks to Puck's apparent mission to make conversation with all the other passengers on the ship. At least he wasn't attempting to hook Kurt up with them, but they were all in couples already, and even Puck had limits.

"We were thinking about doing that kayaking excursion to the mangroves in St Maarten," said the blonder of the blonde couple. Dave had already forgotten their names. "I heard the snorkeling is totally dope."

Kurt gave him a polite smile, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Dave watched him rearrange the tortelloni on his plate.

"Everything okay?" he asked quietly, turning away from Puck. It wasn't as if Kurt could probably really answer that right now, but he thought he should ask anyway.

"Yeah... sorry. Not being very good company right now." He gave Dave a sad laugh. "So much for relaxing. I'll be fine in a few minutes."

Dave had his doubts about that, but he knew Kurt could certainly pretend to be fine if he thought it was required. "Okay. Just...if it's too much, I'll take the blame." He glanced at Puck. "He's already given up on me anyway."

"Seriously, David, I'm all right." Kurt put a hand on top of his briefly. "It comes and goes. I just miss him more when we're doing the things he would like most." He nodded at the animated conversation going on around them. "He would have loved this."

Puck's laugh was a little louder than Dave could handle just then, and as he jostled Dave's elbow, Dave could feel his tolerance for Puck's good mood slipping away. He tried to focus on his plate. The chicken wasn't bad. He deliberately cut and chewed a piece. He could make it through dinner.

They finished dessert, and it might have been more polite to sit and chat a while longer, but Dave couldn't take it anymore. "I need some fresh air for a minute. Puck, want to come?"

It was an excuse so transparent it wasn't really an excuse, but whatever. Puck was his boyfriend, so everybody politely looked the other way. "Uh, sure."

Kurt gave him a little wave. "I'm going to take my drink and wander on up to the observation deck. I'll see you later?"

Dave appreciated Kurt saving him from the guilt of leaving him there. "Great. Come on." He more or less dragged Puck out of the room and into the elevator to the deck.

"Dude," said Puck, somewhat testily. "What's your deal? What happened to trying to have a good time?"

Dave leaned against the wall. "Look, I know we're here to cheer Kurt up, but didn't you see his face? He's twenty-seven years old. He can decide if he's interested in other guys or not, okay? And if he wants to go swimming or play poker or have idiotic conversations with blonde and blonder in there, he can choose those things, too."

"No, man, he _won't."_ Puck shook his head in irritation. "You know exactly what he's going to do. He's going to stare into space all week and sigh and act like some total emo loser, worrying sick about his boyfriend, who's _coming home_ in eight months anyway_,_ and who told him point blank he should have a good time instead of - doing this shit." He stabbed a finger in the general direction of Kurt. "He needs a serious intervention. And I'm providing it."

The elevator let them off on the top floor, and Puck followed Dave out onto the deck. The warm, fresh air was actually nice. "I'm right, aren't I?" he persisted.

"Maybe. But what are you going to do about it? Pushing that hard is only making it worse." Dave didn't mention how it was also annoying him almost to the breaking point. He thought that should be obvious, if Puck was such an expert on body language.

Puck crossed his arms, that stubborn line on his forehead appearing, and he glared at Dave. "You just don't want anybody to have a good time, if you aren't."

So much for not mentioning it. Dave glared right back. "Well, maybe if they could have a good time without being _incredibly annoying,_ I might be happy for them."

Puck's glare slipped a little, and he blinked. "What makes you say I'm - Kurt didn't say - " He paused, watching Dave warily. "You mean _you..._" His sentence petered out, and he leaned back against the railing. "Oh. Uh..." He blew out a breath. Now he just looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, man."

Dave sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry too, I just... I'm trying, okay? And Kurt's trying too, and a little more understanding might be nice."

"Understanding. Okay." Puck nodded, thinking. "Here's what I'm understanding. He's really not happy. And... I want him to be, you know? And you, too."

"Yeah. I know. I want that too, I just think we need...a different strategy, maybe? Because this one is going to make me crazy before too long." Dave put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze, and Puck leaned into it. He could feel the tension draining away through that connection. For a nervous moment, he wished they weren't surrounded by strangers using the observation deck for its intended use - before he remembered that all those strangers were _gay,_ and also, more than half of them weren't _observing_ more than another guy's lips.

He pulled Puck closer to him, taking him in his arms. "Come here." A long, slow sigh went through them both, and he stroked his back in a quiet rhythm. "It's fine. I know you're just doing it because you care."

"Yeah," Puck said, his voice muffled against Dave's shirt. "He's your best friend. Of course I care."

They stood in silence for a minute. The stars were brilliant under the night sky, with no lights around anywhere other than the ones carried by the ship. It was beautiful, but Puck's eyes were closed, and Dave was having trouble looking at anything but him.

"You just want everybody to be happy," Dave murmured.

"Yeah," Puck repeated, just a whisper. "That's all I want."

He kissed Puck's temple. "You have such a big heart. I love that about you."

Now Puck did open his eyes, and looked hopefully at Dave. It affected him the same way it did every time Puck looked at him like that, no matter what ridiculous or thoughtless thing Puck had done moments previously. He just felt so goddamn lucky.

"You sure?" Puck asked. "Because sometimes I think I'm just totally insane for thinking the way I do about things." He laid a hand on Dave's shirt front, over his heart. "Nobody gets me. Except for you."

Dave smiled. "Damn right nobody gets you but me. You're mine."

The gentle kiss turned hungry quickly, and Dave decided that no matter how gay this cruise was, they were _not_ going to be doing anything sexy on the observation deck, or in front of anyone else. "I'm going to go talk to Kurt. Why don't you wait for me in the casino... and then we're going back to our cabin."

Puck grinned, all the tension erased. "Hey, you totally read my mind."

* * *

Dave couldn't find Kurt anywhere on the observation deck, and when he went back down to the restaurant, they were already setting up for the next scheduled seating. One half of the blonde couple was outside by the elevator, though, and Dave stopped him. "Have you seen Kurt? Uh, brown hair, slim, well dressed? He had this vest on, with edging around the -"

"Oh, yeah, him." He tapped the sign next to the elevator. "He headed up to the bar on level six."

That was puzzling, because Kurt had already had a drink in his hand when Dave had left him twenty minutes ago. But when he finally found him hunched over the bar, the fruity cocktail was gone. It had been replaced by four shot glasses, three empty and one full of clear liquid.

Dave sighed and pulled up a stool next to him. "Changed your mind about the observation deck, huh?"

"Nothing to observe," Kurt said in a monotone. He made a sweeping gesture and nearly knocked empty glass #2 off the bar. "Big empty sky full of dead rocks and things too far away to touch."

"Looks like you found something to occupy your time, though." Dave nudged all four glasses away from the edge, hoping to distract Kurt's attention from the full one.

"Yeah. But really, David, I could have stayed home and practiced being a young single alcoholic all on my own." Kurt's hand went out and curled around the full shot, drawing it back toward him like he was reeling in a fish. "Puck's right. I'm ruining everybody's vacation, including my own."

"No you're not." Dave sighed. "Okay, I've seen you a lot happier, but...we knew that, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, right?"

Kurt gazed down at his lap, and Dave was horrified to see his bottom lip was trembling. "I... I can't do this," he said, his voice breaking. "It's too hard. I miss him every day, and I don't know how I can possibly last eight more months without him. God... _eight months."_ This last was a gasp, and he clutched at the edge of the bar. When Dave put out a hand to steady him, Kurt grabbed his hand, holding it tight. The pleading look in his eyes was startlingly familiar, but Dave couldn't figure out where he'd seen it before.

"Hey," he began, just as Kurt started to cry. They weren't big, loud, obnoxious tears, but it was rare enough for Dave to see them at all from Kurt that they broke Dave's heart just a little bit. He only agonized over it for a few seconds before he tugged Kurt forward off his bar stool to stand between Dave's legs. He wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. Dave could feel him shaking. "Kurt..."

Kurt had no words, but at the sound of his name, he held on tighter and buried his face in Dave's shirt. Dave let his instincts guide him as he stroked Kurt's back and cradled his head, but his mind was whirling. He was having almost too many thoughts and feelings to be able to examine them all. The predominant one was _this should be really awkward, _and the one that followed was _why isn't it?_

Kurt's head lay on Dave's chest in almost exactly the same position that Puck's had been in a half hour ago, which might have stirred more awkwardness, but also didn't. The most bizarre, confusing thing about it was that Kurt stopped crying pretty quickly, but he didn't move away from the embrace. He just rested there, breathing. Dave could feel his heart beating.

"Vincent sent me a video," Kurt said softly. He was close enough that Dave could hear him without straining, even in the crowded bar. "He's been visiting cities in Spain that I love and taking clips of himself doing ridiculous things in each of them, like sitting on a park bench and falling asleep, or playing hopscotch, or doing urban climbing. He interspersed them with clips of random strangers saying words."

"Words?" Dave echoed softly, reluctant to interrupt, because he felt like if he broke this spell they were under, Kurt would suddenly stiffen and sit up and give him that horrified, disgusted look Dave still remembered far too well from high school. But Kurt didn't move.

"Yeah, words," he said. "When they were put together, they spelled out the sentence _Kurt, I love you, and I miss you more than words can express. I hope you know Barcelona misses you too."_ He only wavered a little on the word _Barcelona._

"That sounds just like Vincent," he said, smiling. "And wow."

"Yeah," Kurt sighed. When he breathed out, he tucked in closer, in a move that Dave would have called _nestling,_ or even _nuzzling,_ had it been any two people besides them.

Finally Kurt leaned back, gazing up at Dave, his vodka-scented breath landing in gentle puffs on his face. But then Dave caught Kurt's expression again, his blue eyes wide and wet, and a ridiculous curtain of shame settled over Dave as he remembered _exactly _where he'd seen it. It had been in that dream. Kurt hadn't even been in too different a position - just a little nudge and he'd be right there, between Dave's - he released Kurt with a sudden, awkward push.

Kurt stood there, weaving only slightly, lips parted. He looked confused, and a little hurt. "Did I do something?" he asked.

"No," Dave said quickly. "I - no. You're fine." He touched Kurt's shoulder, then dropped his hand. "You going to be okay?"

"I think so," Kurt said. He touched his chest, as if checking to make sure all the pieces were there.

"Vincent loves you," said Dave. "He really does." Kurt nodded, still looking lost. There was no way Dave was going to hug him again now, but he didn't want to leave Kurt to his own devices. "Would you come with me to the casino? You can see Puck in action. It's really kind of hilarious."

Kurt gave him a wan smile. "You're trying to distract me from that last..." He focused on the bar, frowning. "Hey, where'd it go?"

"No idea what you're talking about," Dave said, licking his lips. "Come on; he loves an audience."

Dave knew better than to interrupt Puck when they got to the blackjack table. Puck didn't make eye contact with either of them, but he didn't appear to be paying attention to the game, either. He looked like he was trying to remember something that was just on the tip of his tongue. Dave smiled at the dealer and put five twenties on the table when there was a break in the action. "Can we get some chips?"

"Are we playing to win?" Kurt stage-whispered. Dave nodded and tried to look casual as he stacked half his chips in front of him and the other half in front of Kurt.

Puck continued in distracted silence, pausing for a couple seconds before each bet, but his voice was even when he murmured _hit me_ or _double down_. He only watched closely when the dealer was looking at his own hole card, and otherwise let his gaze wander around the room. Even his betting seemed casual.

Kurt watched in fascination. He leaned in to whisper again to Dave. "What... is he _doing_, exactly?"

"I don't really know how it works," Dave whispered back. "He's explained the procedure to me a couple times, but it's too much for me to understand. I've come to the conclusion his brain just doesn't work the same way as mine." _Or possibly anybody's._

Whatever was going on, Puck's pile of chips was growing steadily larger. At the end of one hand, he stretched and put a hand behind his neck, cracking it. Dave nudged Kurt under the table.

"Bet high on this hand," he murmured.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even seen my cards -"

"Doesn't matter," he assured him. "You're the pretty distraction. Better you than me."

Kurt followed through admirably. Even inebriated, he was a good actor. Dave tried not to grin as Kurt made a show of deliberating over his bet. When he raised, most everyone else sighed and folded, including Puck. Kurt looked delighted to take the small pot, and he joined Dave when he cashed in his chips. Puck showed no sign of following.

"What was that for?" Kurt asked as they stepped off the elevator.

"He has this theory about the dealer looking for card counting strategies," Dave explained. "He thinks if you take the attention off him, the dealer won't reshuffle early. You did fine. Now he's going to finish up the shoe and meet us in the hallway by our cabin."

Kurt looked dubious. "Do you think that really works?"

"Most of the time," said Puck, stepping into the space next to Dave. He handed him a small stack of bills. "Dude, Kurt, you were perfect. Want to go to Vegas with me in December?"

Dave gave a little cough, and Puck paused, before adding, "Um... Kurt... I'm sorry about earlier. I was being kind of pushy. Trying to get you to... well, to relax, maybe, and have a little fun. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I'll stop shoving guys at you."

Kurt looked momentarily surprised, but then he beamed at Puck. Puck took a little step back, blinking uneasily at Dave. Then Kurt closed with him and clutched him around the chest. Puck's arms came around him reflexively.

"You're so _sweet,"_ Kurt crooned. Puck looked startled, then oddly pleased, a flush on his face.

"Sure, man," he said, giving him an awkward little pat. He raised his eyebrows at Dave. "Looks like he loosened up just fine?"

Dave couldn't help snorting a laugh. "Kurt's an affectionate drinker. Right, Kurt?"

Kurt let go of Puck and smoothed his tank top with both hands. The gesture was just the sort of thing Kurt would do, tipsy or not. "I've been missing Vincent," he said. "I know your intentions were good. I can't say I'll take any of the men, but I do promise to do a better job of... playing loose? Is that right?"

"Yeah," said Puck, grinning. "You've got it. That's good news. Hey, tomorrow night - karaoke. Remember junior year, Dave? At Santana's party?"

Dave's memories of the event had not been entirely obliterated by the massive amount of alcohol he'd consumed that night, but he thought maybe he could beg amnesia based on sheer old age. "Babe, that was, what, eleven years ago?"

"You do karaoke?" Kurt said, gazing at Dave in fascination. "Since when?"

"Since never," Dave promised. But he _had_ said he'd try. "Or maybe on a very, very occasional basis. And now... we're going to bed. I'm exhausted."

"Sure." Kurt winked at Puck, whose grin grew wider. Dave fought his scowl. _Oh, yeah, this wasn't awkward._ "Have a good 'sleep,' David."

"See you for breakfast, Kurt," waved Puck, and he let Dave drag him back into the cabin.

The first thing he did was lock the door behind him; the second thing was to take a deep breath. And the third thing was to take Puck's shoulders and drive him up against the wall, grinding their hips together. Puck made a relieved, desperate sound into his mouth and kissed him hard, losing more muscle tone with every breath, until he was almost entirely pliable against the crush of Dave's body.

"I thought I was going to be way too annoyed tonight to do anything like this," Dave said, sliding his hands over Puck's shoulders. _Mine,_ he thought vaguely, and gripped them in both hands. "But now I'm just so fucking proud of you."

"What - did I do?" Puck gasped, turning his head to give Dave access to his neck. Dave bit it obligingly, and Puck's gasp elongated into a shuddering moan.

"You apologized." Dave moved his mouth up along Puck's neck, using his tongue on each bite. By the time he took Puck's earlobe between his teeth, the noises were loud enough that he guessed they could be heard in the next cabin. The idea was oddly satisfying, and Dave didn't bother to tell him to quiet down. _Gay cruise, right? There have to be some perks. _Only...damn, the cabin next to theirs was Kurt's, wasn't it, and if he'd actually retired to it... Lying in bed alone listening to your best friend having sex through the wall wasn't exactly going to make anyone feel better about anything.

But then Puck made another one of those amazing, responsive sounds, and Dave decided Kurt probably hadn't gone to bed at all, or if he had, he'd passed out already, and if not...well. It was sad that Kurt didn't have this, but maybe then he'd be more motivated to go out and find it. Exactly like Puck wanted him to do in the first place. So really, it was probably okay if Dave focused on the skin behind Puck's ear and on getting a hand or two under his shirt.

"Well, yeah, I guess I... mmmmm... I owed him a... god, Dave..." Puck made a twisting motion with his arms, and his shirt was suddenly on the floor, and Puck's amazing hands were holding Dave's head to his neck, begging without too many words for more of _that._ Dave felt the familiar rush of amazed satisfaction that the things he wanted most were exactly what Puck wanted, too.

"You listened to me." He walked Puck backwards the few steps to the bed, knocking him onto his back and kneeling over him, managing to protect his head from smacking against the wall. "I told you there was a problem, and - you said the right thing. You made Kurt feel better, and me feel better, and - uh." Puck's fingers, applying pressure _there,_ was seriously hampering his ability to talk. He took a few deep breaths. "I just think you're pretty amazing, okay?"

"Yeah," said Puck, without a trace of smugness. "I know you think that. You know I think the same thing?"

Dave didn't want to quibble over grammar, or sentence structure. Not with Puck's talented fingers doing _that._ "Yeah, I know."

"Okay, then." Puck kissed him. "I guess I'll feel lucky, then, because I get to spend the whole night in this freakishly small bed, doing incredible things to my boyfriend, who thinks I'm amazing."

Not only did Dave have absolutely no complaint with this, he added, after several long moments of kissing, "I might be planning to do something similar."


	3. Chapter 3

Dave woke up early the next day, feeling better almost to the point of hopeful, and much too rested to go back to sleep. Puck was still sleeping, though, and Dave lay there just looking at him for a while, before he got up with a sigh. Maybe he could go for a run and come back for breakfast with the others. Considering how Kurt had looked last night, he doubted he would be up and about yet, either.

When he got to the jogging track, though, he was surprised to find Kurt already there, slowly going through some kind of stretching routine in the outside lane. There were a few other runners, too, most of them looking more or less serious and experienced. Dave wasn't, really. He preferred his bike to running, and trails if he had to run, but this was still a lot better than being inside. Kurt must have needed some fresh air, too. Dave walked over to him.

"Good morning," he said, "I didn't expect you to be up this early."

Kurt shrugged and stretched his shoulders while still walking. Dave walked beside him. "I couldn't sleep," Kurt said. "It happens sometimes when I've been drinking perhaps a little more than I should. I feel fine, though. And I thought...time for a fresh start, right? So I came up here."

Dave nodded. "Yeah. I feel better, too."

Kurt bit his lip, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "I'm not surprised."

Dave felt himself starting to blush, and thought about maybe coming up with some kind of apology. But that would just make it worse, and...whatever, was it really so bad, anyway? Puck was his boyfriend. He decided to grin instead. "Yeah."

Kurt put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's do a few laps together? I'll get sick of this quick enough, but I can pretend to be healthy, right? And anyway, we should get back before Puck starts to feel abandoned."

"He hadn't even made it into the shower before I left, so no worries there." He was a little touched that Kurt was thinking about Puck.

They started jogging, slowly accelerating to an easy rhythm that Kurt seemed to have no trouble following. "So, karaoke night," Kurt said, obviously teasing, but Dave also knew he meant it and that getting out of this would be a serious challenge. He picked up the pace a little. Kurt stayed beside him, still not noticeably out of breath. "Did you think about songs yet?"

Dave laughed. "Damn, I hoped you'd had a few too many drinks to remember that. And... no."

"Please. Me, forget about karaoke? Never. And maybe you should, then, or you I'll have to help you choose." Dave shook his head and kept running. "Musicals," Kurt said threateningly. "Lady Gaga. _Madonna._"

"Breakfast," Dave answered, and slowed to a walk, turning off the track.

"All right. I am getting hungry." Kurt watched him go with a grin. "But in fifteen hours, you'd better be ready to sing."

* * *

It ended up being more like seventeen hours, because the bus had been a little late coming back from their kayaking excursion, and they'd missed the dinner seating they'd booked for seven o'clock. Kurt had taken a nap and Puck had had a brief workout while Dave did some crosswords in the lounge, which he had to admit was remarkably relaxing. By the time dinner was done, he'd finished three beers and was sipping on a fourth.

Puck, in a clean tank top and a pair of cutoffs that were frayed enough around the edges that they probably should be retired, was working his way through a whiskey sour. It might have been his second, but Dave hadn't really been paying attention. Puck wasn't the kind of guy who required any kind of liquid courage to get up in front of an audience and make a fool of himself, but then, he was also damned talented. The way he'd done karaoke in high school, it was practically like a regular performance. And Kurt - he'd always been a great singer. Who knew how much he'd improved since then? Now Dave was starting to feel nervous.

Kurt had changed from his casual attire to a perfectly fitted designer shirt and tight pants, always the epitome of fashion. He got plenty of looks and smiles from guys who passed them on their way down to the karaoke lounge - more than Puck did, actually, but it was no surprise, since Dave was hovering behind Puck the whole time, resting one possessive hand on his back whenever anyone came close to cruising him. It was lucky that Puck didn't seem to mind this.

As they pulled out their chairs and took seats a few feet away from the stage, he was surprised when Puck leaned over and gave him a kiss. "What was that for?" he asked, trying not to feel self-conscious.

"For this," said Puck. "For trying. I know you hate it."

"I don't _hate_ it," he muttered, but it was a lie, and they both knew it. He gave Puck a smile, then leaned over, quickly, and kissed him back. When he sat back down, he saw Kurt smiling at them. "What?"

"Just you two," Kurt said, his smile softening. "You're so happy. Comfortable. I love seeing you like that, David."

Dave was still grinning when Puck handed him a tablet, pulling his chair closer to read over his shoulder. "Okay. What do you want to - wait, check that; what are you _willing_ to sing?"

"Disney, Celine Dion and just about all Broadway tunes are out," Dave said, paging through the list of hundreds of songs. "So are Lady Gaga and Madonna, no matter what you promise. Oh, and Barbara Streisand is right out. Other than that, I'm willing to entertain suggestions."

Kurt came to stand behind Puck's chair, leaning over his shoulder to peruse the list. "I think it's going to be up to me to get this party started." He touched the screen. "That one. Do you know the words?"

Dave shrugged. He'd heard the song, and it was harmless enough. "Not really, but I don't think that's really the point of karaoke, right? What the hell."

He drank his fourth beer quickly enough that he didn't notice what Puck and Kurt had selected for their first song, but judging by the crafty grin on Puck's face and the anticipatory one on Kurt's, it was going to be painful. He considered ordering another beer, but that might involve him falling over, and he was already regretting having to get up on stage. After four beers, the worst he would do was say inappropriate things; after five, he might end up groping the waiter or something.

Watching other people do karaoke always made Dave cringe a little, because he could hear exactly how bad everybody else was, and he guessed he probably would sound about like that. He sat through three truly awful performances and one mediocre one, trying not to yawn and hoping desperately to get through this night without cameras.

"Hey, babe," Puck said, hitting him on the arm. "You're up. Go."

He let Puck give him a friendly nudge toward the stage, where Kurt was already waiting, looking entirely too together and wearing a big smile. Dave couldn't remember what he'd agreed to sing, but luckily the karaoke experience was idiot-proof.

The screen had lots of words on it. Lots of them. "That's a lot of words," he tried to say, but by then the music was already playing, and Dave scrambled to keep up with all... the... words.

_A man walks down the street  
He says why am I soft in the middle now  
Why am I soft in the middle  
The rest of my life is so hard  
I need a photo-opportunity  
I want a shot at redemption  
Don't want to end up a cartoon  
In a cartoon graveyard  
Bonedigger Bonedigger  
Dogs in the moonlight  
Far away my well-lit door  
Mr. Beerbelly Beerbelly  
Get these mutts away from me  
You know I don't find this stuff amusing anymore_

_If you'll be my bodyguard  
I can be your long lost pal  
I can call you Betty  
And Betty when you call me  
You can call me Al_

That had been painful. At least the chorus was easy. He grinned at Kurt during the trumpet parts, who was clearly trying not to laugh. Now that was wrong; the person you were singing with wasn't supposed to laugh at you, was he? He saw the next slew of words lurking on the screen, and took a deep breath.

_A man walks down the street  
He says why am I short of attention  
Got a short little span of attention  
And why are my nights are so long  
Where's my wife and family  
What if I die here  
Who'll be my role-model  
Now that my role-model is  
Gone Gone  
He ducked back down the alley  
With some roly-poly little bat-faced girl  
All along along  
There were incidents and accidents  
There were hints and allegations_

_If you'll be my bodyguard  
I can be your long lost pal  
I can call you Betty  
And Betty when you call me  
You can call me Al  
Call me Al_

"Why does he want to call her Betty?" he asked Kurt during the whistle solo.

"I'll tell you later," Kurt said. "It's bad form to chat on stage when you're performing, David."

_A man walks down the street  
It's a street in a strange world  
Maybe it's the Third World  
Maybe it's his first time around  
He doesn't speak the language  
He holds no currency  
He is a foreign man  
He is surrounded by the sound  
The sound  
Cattle in the marketplace  
Scatterlings and orphanages  
He looks around, around  
He sees angels in the architecture  
Spinning in infinity  
He says Amen! and Hallelujah!_

_If you'll be my bodyguard  
I can be your long lost pal  
I can call you Betty  
And Betty when you call me  
You can call me Al  
Call me Al_

Dave stared at the screen long after the song was over. "Wow, those are really cool lyrics. How come I never noticed how cool those lyrics were before?"

Kurt took his arm as the audience applauded and walked with him back to his seat. "You did it. You got on stage and sang in front of everyone." He kissed Dave's cheek and sat back, regarding him. "And the world didn't end."

"I know," Dave sighed. "I know I can do stuff like this. I just never _do._ Until you make me, apparently. And the four beers didn't hurt. No more, though, or I start getting grabby."

"I'll remember the magic number," Kurt assured him. "And thank you."

Puck's kiss was considerably less chaste. "Look at you, being awesome at karaoke," he exclaimed, grabbing Dave's arm.

"You're not allowed to say the word awesome and the word karaoke in the same sentence," Dave protested. "But even if you could, I definitely wasn't awesome. If Kurt hadn't been there, I would have been completely lost."

"But he was there," Puck pointed out. "So it was awesome. And you get another chance to be awesome right now - c'mon."

Puck was on stage before he was, and handed him the second microphone as the music began. Dave had the presence of mind to hold up both hands in protest. "Oh, no," he said. "_No_ Sonny and Cher."

"You didn't say that," Puck said, with that wicked, delighted grin that never failed to melt Dave.

He sighed, ran a hand over his face, and watched Puck sing the first two lines. He considered mutiny, but decided the fallout later would be more than he was willing to deal with, and went ahead sang the second two lines right back to him. At least Puck had given him the Sonny part.

_They say we're young and we don't know  
We won't find out until we grow  
Well I don't know if all that's true  
'Cause you got me, and baby I got you_

_Babe  
I got you babe  
I got you babe_

Puck's grin had already softened into something far more adorable. Dave heard a wolf whistle from the general direction of their table. He wondered if his brain perceived "doing karaoke" as a particular neurological pattern, because the second verse seemed easier than the first. Thank god for adaptability.

_They say our love won't pay the rent  
Before it's earned, our money's all been spent  
I guess that's so, we don't have a plot  
But at least I'm sure of all the things we got_

_Babe  
I got you babe  
I got you babe_

Dave squinted at the lyrics as they scrolled off the screen. "We don't have a plot? Like, a graveyard plot or something?"

"Dude, what did Kurt tell you about talking on stage?" Puck put an arm around him, which made Dave panic for about two seconds before he remembered, yet again, that this was a _gay cruise_, and all the guys on it were _gay,_ and it didn't matter that he was up on stage in front of all of them making an ass of himself, because... all right, here came the third verse.

_I got flowers in the spring  
I got you to wear my ring  
And when I'm sad, you're a clown  
And if I get scared, you're always around_

They sang the next verse together. Puck reached out and took his hand, singing right to him over the microphone, and _damn,_ his boyfriend was gorgeous. Dave knew he was smiling like a total idiot, but really, he didn't care at that moment.

_Don't let them say your hair's too long  
'Cause I don't care, with you I can't go wrong  
Then put your little hand in mine  
There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb_

_Babe  
I got you babe  
I got you babe_

_I got you to hold my hand  
I got you to understand  
I got you to walk with me  
I got you to talk with me  
I got you to kiss goodnight  
I got you to hold me tight  
I got you, I won't let go  
I got you to love me so_

They went back and forth, alternating lines. Dave's mind started to fill in all the other things, all the _actually _special things that Puck did and was and represented for him. _I got you to change the catbox... I got you to give me blowjobs in the morning... I got you to ride bikes with your daughter... _Now he was starting to feel sappy. He managed to finish off the song without completely losing his mind.

_I got you babe  
I got you babe_

When Puck put a hand behind his neck and pulled him close, whispering, "Fucking awesome," and kissing him, he didn't even try to stop him. Kurt was actually dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief when they got back to the table.

"I think you need to go on tour," Kurt said to Puck, giving him a hug. "You're really adorable."

"No." Dave waved his hand at Kurt. "Not adorable. Definitely not that."

Puck pulled out his chair and made him sit down. "Well, at least you get a break. Here - drink this while me and Kurt get our turn."

Dave poked at the ice with the red stirrer. "What's in here?"

"It's water, genius." Puck kissed his head and jogged up on stage. It was only about ten feet away, but Puck gave him a little wave when he got up there, anyway, and it somehow made Dave feel better. He waved back and waited for the awesomeness to start. Because, really, Puck and Kurt, on stage together? Kind of the definition of awesome.

"That's my boyfriend," he said to the waiter, who grinned and refilled his water. "I can't have anything more to drink. Four drinks, that's it."

"You got it, cutie," the water said. He glanced at Kurt and Puck, discussing their next song and negotiating who got which microphone. "Which one's your boyfriend?"

"The gorgeous one," Dave said, not even bothering to try not to sound smug.

"Mmm." The waiter tilted his head. "They're both gorgeous."

Dave squinted at the stage. "No, I mean... uh." Okay, he had a point. "The one who's smiling at me."

The waiter's eyebrow went up. "They're both smiling at you."

"No, Jesus, the one who's - never mind." Dave rested his head in his hand for a minute. When he looked up again, the waiter was gone, his water had been refilled, and Puck and Kurt were there, on stage, looking gorgeous. And smiling... at each other.

_Children behave  
That's what they say when we're together,  
And watch how you play,  
They don't understand,_

_And so we're  
Running just as fast as we can,  
Holding onto one another's hand,  
Trying to get away into the night,  
And then you put your arms around me,  
And we tumble to the ground,  
And then you say,_

_I think we're alone now,  
There doesn't seem to be anyone around.  
I think we're alone now,  
The beating of our hearts is the only sound._

A Tiffany song. Really? And how the hell Dave knew this was a song by Tiffany, he didn't want to admit, even to himself. But Puck and Kurt were hamming it up as apparently only they could, holding onto each other's hands and swinging them between them like they were Beth's age. Dave had to chuckle.

The lyrics were a little disturbing, though, and Dave tried not to think about them, but they were creating pictures in his mind that wouldn't go away. Arms intertwined and fields of grass and kissing and... he shook his head irritably.

The harmonies were nice, though.

_Look at the way,  
We gotta hide what we're doing  
'Cause what would they say,  
If they ever knew and so we're  
Running just as fast as we can,  
Holding onto one another's hand,  
Trying to get away into the night,  
And then you put your arms around me,  
And we tumble to the ground,  
And then you say,_

_I think we're alone now,  
There doesn't seem to be anyone around.  
I think we're alone now,  
The beating of our hearts is the only sound._

When they came trotting back to the table, all smiles, Dave had to say it, because otherwise he was going to start asking stupid paranoid questions about the lyrics, and he wasn't going to do _that_. "Tiffany, Kurt?"

Kurt looked absolutely offended. "_That_ was the Tommy James and the Shondells version, David, _not_ Tiffany. The tempo is different, and the key, and -"

"I need another drink," said Puck, putting an arm around Dave. "How'd we do?"

He was asking so earnestly that Dave couldn't be anything but honest. "You sounded really good," he said. "You guys really couldn't ever sound anything but fantastic together, no matter what you chose to sing."

Kurt gave Puck a delicate high-five. "I feel like I'm in high school again. What's next?"

Puck was already browsing the list on the tablet while the next group of guys went up for their turn. Dave stared glumly at his glass of water. "Not enough alcohol to obliterate the memory of this experience," he said. "Too much alcohol to keep from saying these words aloud. Not a good combination."

"Really." Kurt peered at him in fascination. "I wonder what I could get you to _say."_

"Pretty much anything," Puck said absently. "Dude. You guys have to sing _this."_ He passed the tablet over to Kurt, who choked on his sip of martini when he read what it was.

"That is perfect," Kurt admitted. "I just don't know if I can do that to David."

"Uh, I'm right here." Dave waved his hand in Kurt's face and made a grab for the tablet, but Puck snatched it back from Kurt before he could see the title and touched something on the screen.

"You're doing it," Puck said, pointing at both of them, like he was a cowboy with two pistols. "Think of it as an opportunity to apologize for all those declarations of love over the years."

"What, all two of them?" Dave racked his brain for any other ones he might have missed. "It was just twice, right? Me in the gorilla suit, and you on the phone at three in the morning." He paused, staring at Kurt, who was hiding his face. "Are you _blushing?_ I don't think that's allowed when you're performing drunk karaoke."

"That argument might hold more water if I were more drunk," said Kurt. He flagged down the waiter, the one who'd said he was gorgeous. "I'll have another."

Kurt's drink was nearly gone by the time they made it up on stage again. Puck was grinning at them both, waving them on with his beer. "How many has _he_ had?" Dave asked Kurt, stumbling a little on the step up to the mic stand.

"More than me," Kurt said. "Now get ready, honey. You get the first line."

_Don't go breaking my heart  
I couldn't if I tried  
Honey if I get restless  
Baby you're not that kind_

_Don't go breaking my heart  
You take the weight off me  
Honey when you knock on my door  
I gave you my key_

They alternated lines, like Elton John and Kiki Dee did on the recording, until they got to the chorus. Dave was a little more proud than embarrassed to hear the falsetto "oooh"s coming out of his mouth. When he said "I was your clown," Kurt cracked up, and Dave found himself singing the next few lines alone while Kurt recovered.

_Nobody knows it  
When I was down  
I was your clown_

_Nobody knows it  
Right from the start  
I gave you my heart  
I gave you my heart_

_So don't go breaking my heart  
I won't go breaking your heart  
Don't go breaking my heart_

_And nobody told us  
'Cause nobody showed us  
And now it's up to us babe  
I think we can make it_

_So don't misunderstand me  
You put the light in my life  
You put the sparks to the flame  
I've got your heart in my sights_

The lyrics were so ultra-sappy that Dave thought he probably should be irritated by the song, but Kurt was such a great performer, he made it easy to ham it up and not feel too weird about having fun with that. It wasn't nearly so hard, when he saw Kurt's grin. Their history, the complicated parts of their past - in this moment, they all seemed unimportant.

They got more applause for this song than they had for the last one, which maybe shouldn't have mattered, either, but did. Kurt was practically bouncing with excitement when they came down from the stage. He flung his arms around Puck.

"That was so much better than I thought it was going to be," Kurt exclaimed.

Dave let the wording of that filter through his beer-hazed brain. "Hey…"

"Take it like a compliment, babe," Puck assured him, resting his head on Kurt's. "They loved us." He turned his head to grin at Kurt in anticipation. "You ready for more?"

"Oh, yeah," Kurt breathed. It was so much the voice from Dave's dreams that he was momentarily jolted out of his inebriation. He watched with puzzled concern as Puck and Kurt headed back up to the stage, hand in hand.

"He _is _your boyfriend, right?" It was the waiter again. Dave was tempted to order another beer, but he'd already cut himself off, and he didn't want to have to explain it was because of his boyfriend that he wanted another one.

"Yeah. He is. Not the other guy. I mean, I wanted him to be, once, but that was a long, long time ago. And then he wanted me to be his, or something…" He paused, watching them falling all over each other laughing. Kurt was clutching Puck's arm, and Puck was patting his hand reassuringly.

"Mmmm. All close friends, huh? Nice." The waiter looked a little envious. "Well, you might want to keep an eye on your other friend, if you care at all about who he ends up going home with. One of the guys at table five bought him a drink."

Dave turned his head toward the table the waiter indicated. The taller of the three guys there was watching Kurt with an intent expression. Dave narrowed his eyes. "Him? Please. He looks like he doesn't have two brain cells to rub together. Kurt's a super hot genius." Dave waved the waiter away. "Tell him he doesn't have a chance."

The waiter paused to admire the two men on stage. "I think he might already be figuring that out."

Dave was a little confused himself. Because, yeah, Kurt was a good actor, and Puck was a total ham, but… it might be those four beers still confusing his interpretation, but they really _looked_ like they weren't acting. Which, of course, they were. But they were singing, and that meant it was time for shutting his brain up and listening.

_I thought that dreams belonged to other men  
Cause each time I got close  
They'd fall apart again_

_I feared my heart would beat in secrecy  
I faced the nights alone  
Oh, how could I have known  
That all my life I only needed you_

_Whoa-oh  
Almost paradise  
We're knocking on Heaven's door  
Almost paradise  
How could we ask for more?  
I swear that I can see forever in your eyes  
Paradise  
Yeah, it's paradise_

The harmonies were even better than the last time. Dave watched Puck and Kurt do some impromptu choreography, smiling over their hands as they reached out for one other across the stage. He felt a sense of satisfaction as the guy at table 5 got up and left with his buddies. There wasn't any particular reason for that, because after all, as he'd told Puck, Kurt was perfectly capable of choosing or discarding his own guy. Not that any of them would be good enough for Kurt, but that was beside the point. Not a replacement for Vincent; just a casual hookup. The thought made him oddly uncomfortable.

_It seems like perfect love's so hard to find  
I'd almost given up  
You must've read my mind_

_And all these dreams I saved for a rainy day  
They're finally comin' true  
You know I'll share them all with you  
Cause now we hold the future in our hands_

Puck's voice was sweet and gentle, his expression soft. Dave wondered suddenly why Puck never sang to him.

"He could do it any time, at home," he told the waiter on his next pass. "I wouldn't mind."

"Do what, honey?" The waiter patiently topped off his water without being told, again, that Dave didn't need another drink. Dave figured this fact was pretty evident by now.

"Sing to me, like that." Dave made a vague gesture at the stage. "Look at that. Isn't he a good singer? He used to sing like that in Glee club in high school. They both did."

Puck twirled Kurt around and tucked him under his arm, making the audience whistle and cheer. Kurt's cheeks were pink with exertion and alcohol, which made for a very realistic blush.

_And in your arms salvation's not so far away  
We're getting closer, closer every day  
Almost paradise  
We're knocking on Heaven's door  
Almost paradise  
How could we ask for more?  
I swear that I can see forever in your eyes  
Paradise  
It's paradise_

As they repeated the last line several times, staring into each other's eyes, Dave saw Kurt's smile falter, and Puck's hands drop. They ended awkwardly, looking away, but that didn't stop the crash of applause.

"You're a really good singer," said a dark-skinned young man, approaching Kurt as they walked off stage. Kurt smiled, while Puck returned to Dave at their table. He was sweating a little, but it didn't seem to bother him.

"So why _don't_ you sing to me like that?" Dave said. Puck was startled momentarily, and Dave realized that Puck hadn't been present for the conversation he'd had with the waiter.

"Because you would hate it," Puck said, wrinkling his nose.

Dave shook his head. "No, I would _say_ I hated it, but really, I would totally love it."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Way to give mixed messages, man."

He tried to explain. "It's just that you guys were so _good,_ and it's not like I could ever sing like that, but I figure I can give you things I'm good at, like… math, and… uh…"

Puck was staring at him now. "Dave," he said, "you totally give me _so much._ Don't you know that?"

Dave didn't have any words, which felt a little weird considering _how many_ words he'd been saying over the past couple hours. Until Puck came over and put his mouth on his, holding his face and kissing him until he was breathless, which really didn't take long at all.

"I fucking love you, man," Puck whispered. "And I would sing to you _any time_ you want."

Kurt was still chatting up the boy by the stage, who didn't look like he could be much older than twenty, but Puck grabbed the tablet and browsed quickly through the titles, picking one with a stab of his finger. "No time like the present." He went over and plucked Kurt right out of his conversation, hauling him up to the stage.

Kurt didn't seem too bothered by this, once he regained his equilibrium. "What's going on?"

Puck pointed at Dave accusingly. "Dave wants me to _sing_ to him." A pensive violin part began. It was only vaguely familiar to Dave, but Kurt obviously recognized it, because he turned pale and put a hand to his mouth. "So I'm going to do that. Kurt, you get the Nicole Kidman part."

"Oh, my god…" He stared at Puck. "You're really going to do this?"

In answer, Puck locked eyes with Dave across the room and sang the opening lines. Dave felt a shiver crawl up his spine and lodge itself behind his neck, preventing him from looking away or taking a drink or saying any words at all. Ewan MacGregor might be a good actor, but had nothing on his boyfriend for sheer emotional conviction.

_Never knew I could feel like this  
Like I've never seen the sky before  
I want to vanish inside your kiss  
Every day I love more and more_

_Listen to my heart  
Can you hear it sing  
Telling me to give you everything_

_Seasons may change  
Winter to spring  
But I love you until  
The end of time_

_Come what may  
Come what may  
I will love you until my dying day_

Then, like the chiming of bells, Kurt was singing along with Puck, first in his own special Kurt octave, reserved for him and no other male voices on this planet, and then lower, in exquisite harmony. He stood off to the side, holding the microphone but not quite on stage, and even though Dave's eyes were only for Puck, he could see Kurt was watching him, too. Singing to him, too, in his own way. Dave ignored the stupid tears that blurred his vision.

_Suddenly the world seems  
Such a perfect place  
Suddenly it moves with  
Such a perfect grace  
Suddenly my life  
Doesn't seem such a waste  
It all revolves around you_

_And there's no mountain too high  
No river too wide  
Sing out this song  
And I'll be there by your side_

_Storm clouds may gather  
And stars may collide  
But I love you until  
The end of time_

It was absurdly overblown - and completely perfect. The applause was mixed this time, and several of the listeners looked relieved to get back to songs by Lady Gaga and Foreigner, but Dave wasn't sure he'd ever been so moved. Which was probably the four beers talking, but still. Then he realized, with a start, that he'd finished the last beer over three hours ago. There was no way it was still affecting him.

"So." Puck pulled up his chair and sat down next to Dave, looking not at him, but fixedly at the stage. He was beet-red. "There you go. I sang to you. You still want me to sing to you again?"

Dave took Puck's hand and gripped it hard, watching Kurt, who was watching them from across the room. Kurt was holding the microphone like he wasn't sure what to do with it. "Yeah, babe," he said. "I do. Want that. That was… well, thanks."

Puck grinned a little, turning his gaze on the floor. "You're welcome."

Dave wanted to thank Kurt, too, but he could tell from Kurt's expression that, for whatever reason, this just wasn't the right time for that. So he simply gave him a nod, and accepted Kurt's tight nod in return. The boy from before approached him again, and Kurt looked relieved to return to flirting with him.

"I think that was last call for me, tonight," said Puck. "I'm hitting the casino. You coming, or staying here?"

"Be there in a bit," said Dave. "I'm just going to keep an eye on Kurt until I know where he's ending up tonight. One guy kept trying to buy him drinks earlier."

"Really?" Puck brightened. "Dude, score. Where'd he go?"

"I think you chased him off."

"Oh." He laughed, shaking his head. "Not really what I was going for, but… well, I can try again tomorrow after our hiking excursion on St Croix. There's dancing."

Dave took a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah, okay." Then he squeezed Puck's hand again. "Babe, remember how I told you there were some things that I said I hated but I really loved? Like you singing to me?"

"Yeah."

"Dancing isn't one of them. I really, actually hate dancing."

Puck nodded, unperturbed. "You can just watch us, then. I'm not such a great dancer myself, but it's fun. I'll keep Kurt company, anyway, until he can find someone worth capturing and dragging back to his lair."

_No such person exists,_ Dave wanted to say, but he knew it was up to Kurt to decide that. "I won't be too long."

"As long as you realize if you don't come in the next half hour, I'm drafting some twink to help me with my winning strategy."

It was a valid threat, but after that song, Dave just wasn't worried. He cupped Puck's head in one hand and pulled him into a long, focused kiss. Puck was grinning by the end.

"Have fun playing cards." He resisted giving his butt a pat. There were limits, even on a gay cruise ship. Or, at least, Dave had limits. No, he did. "And fleecing the other passengers."

"Just the house," Puck protested, his eyes glinting. "Half an hour."

But Dave didn't promise to show up. He figured Puck knew he probably would stay here until closing, just to make sure nobody took advantage of Kurt. It didn't matter at all that, logically, Kurt had been taking care of himself in California for over eight years. Dave still had to look out for him. _It's the best friend's job,_ had been the reason he'd always given, and the one he was sticking to - even though right now, in the midst of chemically-induced honesty, he knew that wasn't the only reason.

_Don't ask, don't tell,_ he thought, his eyes on Kurt, who was smiling at the dark-skinned boy, leaning a little on his arm. _Twice, we told, and neither time ended well. Better just not to talk about it._

* * *

He wasn't sure if it was the subtle motion of the ship, or the drinking, but Dave had particularly vivid dreams that night. It must have been Puck's mention of dancing. Dave certainly knew what kind of dancing he'd _meant: _the kind where a bunch of people stood around bouncing and wiggling in vague rhythm, reliving their adolescence and trying not to feel insecure about what they looked like doing it.

But, in his dreams, that wasn't the kind of dancing they were doing. Dave wasn't an expert by any means, but he thought it was a bossa nova beat, or some kind of tango. Kurt and Puck were in sharp tuxedos, and he supposed he would have been, too, if he could have seen himself in his dream. They were in an empty ballroom. He watched Puck lead Kurt over to him, twirling him around and then letting him go while Dave took Kurt in his arms and swept him across to another corner. They took turns like this, each partnering the other, around and around, letting the music lead them. He felt perfectly competent in his dream; the dancing didn't feel awkward at all.

There wasn't any conversation, but they were communicating just fine with their eyes, and when Kurt gave him over to Puck at the next turn, Puck kissed him, deep and full, as they danced. _What about Kurt?_ he wanted to say. _He's going to feel uncomfortable._

But as they approached Kurt again, it wasn't at all clear to Dave who would dance with Kurt next. _It's supposed to be Puck, _he thought, but when Puck let his hand go and watched Kurt lead him away, Puck didn't seem upset to miss his turn.

But then Kurt's lips were on Dave's, and even in the dream, that was too much. He tore himself away and woke up with a jerk, blinking into the dark of their cabin.

"You okay, babe?" Puck murmured. Dave put a hand on top of the covers, letting it rest on Puck's hip.

"Go back to sleep," he said, not knowing quite how to respond to that.

* * *

_You could put some joy upon my face  
Oh sunshine in an empty place  
Take me to turn to and babe I'll make you stay_

_Oh I can ease you of your pain  
Feel you give me love again  
Round and round we go, each time I hear you say_

_This is the rhythm of the night  
This is the rhythm of my life_

_Won't you teach me how to love and learn  
There'll be nothing left for me to yearn  
Think of me and burn and let me hold your hand  
I don't wanna face the world in tears  
Please think again, I'm on my knees  
Sing that song to me, no reason to repent_


	4. Chapter 4

The hike on the island of St Croix was gorgeous. Dave filled his camera's entire memory card with shots of the mountains and the colonial ruins, and although Puck talked most of the time about his exploits in the casino the night before, he clearly had a great time, too. Kurt stayed behind in town to do some shopping, but met them for smoothies afterwards.

"You would have liked the tidal pool halfway down the mountain," Puck told him. Kurt seemed more quiet than usual, but that might have been Dave's imagination. "Hey, that kid you were hanging on after karaoke - did you score?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Puck," Kurt said with a smile. "He was a little young for me, anyway, don't you think?"

Dave was glad to hear it. "Definitely too young," he agreed, finishing his smoothie.

"No matter," Puck declared. "You'll have your pick of guys tonight. I swear I won't leave that dance floor until I see you've got a hot guy on your arm."

Dave gave him a look, because that sounded dangerous, and a lot like what he'd been up to a few days ago, attempting to hook Kurt up with every random guy who walked by. But Puck held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, _Kurt_ gets to pick!" he said. "I'm just going to, you know… feed them to him."

Kurt shuddered. "That makes me feel like a boa constrictor or something. Gah."

That wasn't quite the image Dave had had in his mind, but he was _not_ going to say anything about it. "You guys are going to have to have your fun without me. I'll be the one in the corner doing the crossword."

"It's your vacation, too, babe," Puck said, giving him a sloppy and very inappropriate kiss. "I'm not going to get in your way."

* * *

Puck dressed up in the suit jacket he'd packed, but he wore a black t-shirt underneath instead of the button-down, and tight jeans that emphasized several of Puck's most appealing attributes. The ensemble just made Dave want to put his hands all over him, but he thought he might be able to restrain himself if he didn't have quite as many drinks tonight.

"You're making me feel underdressed," Dave said, when Puck caught him changing his clothes for the third time. "I don't have anything more fancy than a good pair of khakis."

"Should I say you look hot in them anyway, or that it doesn't matter what you're wearing because I plan to take them off you later?" Puck fixed his lapel and grinned, posing. "Tell me I look awesome."

"I'll tell you," Dave assured him, holding open the door for him. "Trust me, I'll tell you. I'm almost afraid to find out what Kurt's wearing."

Kurt looked elegant, of course, because he would have rocked any look, but tonight he'd gone understated, in a grey silk shirt and tie and tailored slacks. Dave was sure the label on his shoes had some significance, but he didn't have any idea what it was. He complimented them anyway.

"You can't fool me, David," Kurt said, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "But you're very thoughtful."

Puck smirked. "Hey, Kurt, do I get a kiss if I give you a fake compliment, too?"

Kurt considered this, then took his arm. "I think you get a snide comment and the right to be the first to dance with me."

"Deal." Puck actually looked like he was looking forward to this. But then, Puck kind of threw himself into everything he did, no matter how ridiculous it was.

The dance floor was crowded already. Dave chose a booth by the door, where he could see the whole room, but in which he wouldn't feel too stupid working on a crossword while his boyfriend was dancing. It was a Tuesday crossword, anyway, and he could do a Tuesday in his sleep. He ordered a couple of beers and some fries, and a bowl of shelled edamame.

Kurt smiled when he saw the appetizer. "Is that for me?" he said, taking one and popping it into his mouth. "Or are you really eating Japanese on a whim?"

"I was thinking of the first time you and me and Vincent went out," he said. Then he froze, realizing what he'd said. "Uh - Kurt. God, I didn't mean to bring him up."

"It's okay, David," Kurt said with a little smile. "It's not like I'm not always thinking about him already. I _can_ have a good time without him. That doesn't mean he's ever far from my mind." He took a handful of the green soybeans and nibbled them one by one. "And I do love edamame."

"Yeah, okay." Dave still felt awful, but he was willing to be pacified by Kurt's words. And Kurt did seem fine. When Lady Gaga's voice echoed out of the speakers, Kurt bounced up, giving him a wave.

"I'm off to get my groove on. _Don't worry._ And enjoy your crossword." He dashed off. Dave had to smile. Kurt hadn't changed much. Aside from being tanner and having more highlights in his hair, he didn't really look a whole lot different from the last time they'd danced together.

_Except, then, he'd been wearing a kilt and a tiara, and I was a total asshole to him. _He sighed. Not the best memory to dredge up. They'd had plenty of good times since then, and Dave knew he wasn't that guy anymore, but he wondered if Kurt might be thinking about it, too.

By the time Dave saw Puck again, Lady Gaga had declared several times she was born that way, and the Scissor Sisters had insisted in Bee-Gees-like falsettos that they didn't feel like dancin', no sir, no dancin' today. Puck was still wearing the suit jacket, and Dave considered telling him to take it off, but figured there was already enough testosterone in the room.

"This for me?" said Puck, breathing a little hard and taking a long drink of one of the beers. He was smiling, though. "Man. These guys are hard core. We're going to have to pull out the Single Ladies routine. Remember that?"

"How could I forget. And _no." _Dave took a drink of his own beer. "No dancin' today."

That made Puck laugh. "Dude, if they happen to play it - and I promise neither of us will request it - would you do it then? Kurt would love it."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever." He let Puck give him a kiss, and gave the jacket a little tug. _What the hell. _"And you're not going to wear that all night. Take it off."

"What, and start a sex riot?" Puck waggled his eyebrows, but he obligingly shed the suit jacket and hung it up on the back of a chair. Dave took a few indulgent moments to bask in the hotness of his boyfriend in a tight t-shirt and jeans. "Bye, babe. Enjoy the view."

He watched Puck's ass do its own dance on its way back to the floor as LMFAO informed the crowd that party rock was in the house tonight, and everybody was going to have a good time.

Dave had finished a quarter of his crossword when he realized Kurt wasn't dancing anymore. He was standing at a table with a tall, slender guy in glasses, talking animatedly, a drink in his hand. _Had Kurt ordered that?_ he wondered. He hadn't noticed. Maybe the guy had bought it for him. Kurt didn't look unhappy. On the contrary, he was definitely flirting. Now he had the guy by the arm and was dragging him over. Dave braced himself and put on a smile.

"David, you've got to hear - you'll never believe it." Kurt's face was practically sparkling. "Marcus, this is my best friend David. David, Marcus is a languages professor. At _Yale."_

He was handsome enough, in a nerdy sort of way, and Dave guessed he might look a little like Vincent under that tan. "Nice to meet you, Marcus," he said. "Help yourself to edamame."

"Thanks," said Marcus, but he didn't.

"I had to tell you. Marcus was telling me the meaning of the song that's playing? The numa numa song? I'd never really thought about it, but he told me it's Romanian. Isn't that interesting?"

Dave guessed it was, but Kurt was already going on. "Marcus, tell him the lyrics."

Marcus looked like he might want to apologize, or possibly run away. Dave felt a little sorry for him, under the spell of the Kurt Hummel charm. "Uh, well, sure:

_I gave you a call to tell you how I feel now.  
Hello, my love, it's me, an outlaw.  
Hello, hello, it's me again, Picasso,  
I gave you a call, and I'm awesome  
But you must know I'm asking you nothing._

_You want to go but you don't, you don't take me with you  
you don't, you don't, you don't take me with you  
Your face and the love under the linden tree  
remind me of your eyes."_

Kurt laughed hysterically, leaning on Marcus for support. "Oh, my _god._ Dave, can you believe it? It's like the lyricist wrote it _for us._"

"In Romanian," Dave added blankly, sending Kurt into more gales of laughter. He gave Marcus his own apologetic look. "Uh, sorry about this."

"No problem," Marcus said, looking somewhat bemused, but Dave guessed he would be willing to humor Kurt in order to dance with him. _Who wouldn't,_ he thought.

Marcus took Kurt back to the dance floor to groove to Adam Lambert imploring his lover to give him his naked love. Before he went, Dave made sure Kurt could see his nod of approval. "He's cool," Dave said. Kurt just shrugged.

"I'm dancing, David, not trolling for dates. But weren't those incredible lyrics?" Kurt shook his head, marveling.

This time Dave made it through nearly two-thirds of the crossword before Puck came back to drink the rest of his beer. Dave had ordered him a second one, but he didn't think Puck even noticed. He didn't show any signs of quitting dancing, either, though Kurt had clearly been claimed by Marcus for the evening.

"You've done your good deed," Dave pointed out with the last of the fries.

"Yeah," Puck agreed, looking satisfied. "He's all right. At least Kurt won't squash him with his big words."

They watched Kurt tear up the floor while CSS suggested they make love and listen to Death from Above. "Apparently he can speak Romanian," Dave said.

"Yeah, and four other languages." Puck looked like he was waiting for Dave to say something. "Kurt likes smart guys."

"He deserves that." Dave set down his pen. The last third of the crossword was thwarting him, but he knew from experience if he took a short break and then came back to it, his brain would sort things out on its own, and it would make sense after a while. "Well, you go ahead. I'm fine. It's a good view, anyway."

Puck laughed. "Okay, yeah, you must be pretty relaxed if you can admit you're enjoying watching a bunch of guys dance. I'll see you later, babe. Thanks for the beer."

Dave ordered a third round and resumed his crossword. To his surprise, the next guy who came to sit beside him was Marcus. "Hey."

"I think Kurt's going to make me translate this song for you, too," Marcus said sheepishly. "So I figured I'd get it out of the way."

Dave grinned, listening as the song played. "I actually took a couple years of Spanish, but go ahead."

His grin dropped away as Marcus told him what Paradisio was singing about in "Bailando."

_Yes, sir, special effects  
Yes, sir, a temptation_

_You and me at the party  
You and me the whole night  
You and me at the party  
You and me_

_Dancing, dancing friends  
Goodbye, goodbye crazy silence  
Dancing, dancing friends  
Goodbye, goodbye crazy silence_

_Yes sir, a crown of crystals, yeah, yeah, yeah  
Yes sir, a great thrill of emotion, yeah, yeah, yeah_

_The moon was full  
I dreamt of a palace  
A paradise that's called Paradisio_

_Sensual dance  
Romantic night  
Melody_

"Seriously? A crown of crystals?" Dave stared at the dance floor, trying to fathom the circumstances. "Huh. No shit."

"Kurt said something about you two at your high school prom...?" Marcus didn't prod further, but he definitely looked curious. Dave sighed.

"Yeah. Junior year... I was elected prom king, if you can believe that. And Kurt... it was a kind of mean joke, I guess, he was elected queen, by write-in. He and his boyfriend were totally cool about the whole thing, though. Kurt and me, we were supposed to dance, and the song was _Dancing Queen, _and..._"_ He grimaced. "I was still in the closet. Really not a good scene."

Marcus looked horrified. "God, no. What did you do?"

"I ran," Dave admitted. "It took me almost another whole year before I could tell Kurt how I felt about him. I was pretty stupid, I guess, but - it was high school."

"How traumatic." Marcus was watching Kurt again. He sighed. "Well, I guess it's never too late for happy endings."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "I guess? I mean, we both figured out how to be happy. He's having a good time with you tonight."

Marcus gave him a strange look. "Uh - David, was it? - David, Kurt's not paying any attention to me. He's totally into _you._"

"No," Dave protested. "No, his boyfriend's in Spain, and he's - that's my boyfriend, over there. Uh, dancing with him." He shook his head. "Kurt's so over me."

But it was pointless, and he could tell Marcus thought so, too. "Sounds complicated," he said, standing up. "I'm not really in a position to deal with complicated, no matter how cute Kurt is. Tell him I said good luck."

Dave didn't watch him walk out. He would be damned if he was going to be responsible for spoiling Kurt's night, _again._ He took a deep breath and strode over to the DJ.

"Hey," he called over the noise. "You wouldn't happen to have that song, Single Ladies?"

He positioned himself strategically by the dance floor and tried to look appropriately disgusted when the song came on. Puck rushed right over to him and took his arm.

"What were the chances?" Dave said, rolling his eyes. "Okay, fine; a promise is a promise."

The delighted look on Kurt's face was totally worth a few minutes of humiliating hip-shaking, not to mention Puck's incredulous smile. Kurt led them through the whole routine to cheers from the rest of the guys on the dance floor, and Dave followed along as best as he could. Eventually it deteriorated into the usual morass of grinding and pointless bobble-heading, and Dave figured he'd slink back to his booth.

He was halted in his tracks by Kurt, sweaty, breathless and rosy-cheeked. "David," he said, eyes bright. "You - that was -"

Dave accepted his enthusiastic embrace, and even laughed. "Can't believe I remembered it." That was ridiculous, considering he still owned everything Kurt had ever given him, including a towel from the McKinley high school locker room.

"Did I tell you my dad did the whole routine for me on the auditorium stage just before graduation?" Kurt nodded confirmation when Dave raised an incredulous eyebrow. "True story. He wore the glove and everything. I just about died." Kurt leaned his head on Dave's chest. "This - might have topped that."

Dave gave him one little squeeze, then let him go. "Glad to oblige. And, yeah, you got me to dance. Kind of. But this is it, okay?"

Kurt wasn't moving away from his spot against Dave's chest, and his expression... "I'd never make you do anything you didn't want to do, David."

Dave swallowed. He could have made a joke - hell, a whole _series_ of jokes - about that comment, but the words stuck in his throat. "Kurt..."

"C'mon," Puck interrupted, taking Kurt's hand. "I love this song."

Dave watched while Puck led Kurt back to the dance floor, where Maroon 5 was extolling the virtues of his moves like Jagger. Kurt hadn't said one word about Marcus being gone. Dave let out the breath he was holding. "Okay," he muttered, trying to brush Kurt's sweat off his shirt. "Okay."

His crossword and his third beer were both complete by the time last call rolled around. "Last call is kind of a joke on a cruise ship," Puck was saying, making a face. "I mean, hell, you could drink all night if you wanted to."

"No thank you," Kurt said, with emphatic jazz hands. "I learned that lesson more than once." He leaned in and gave Puck a kiss on the cheek. "There. You earned that."

"Tonight was awesome," Puck grinned. "Even if that guy did ditch you. What happened to him, anyway? He just disappeared."

"Who knows." Kurt looked completely noncommittal about Marcus' vanishing act. He picked at his shirt distastefully. "God, I need about three showers. Anybody for swimming?"

Swimming in the middle of the night sounded like exactly the sort of thing Puck would love to do. Sure enough, he was giving Dave puppy-dog eyes. Dave didn't even bother to argue. "Sure. Whatever."

They all trouped back to their cabins to shower and change into their suits. Puck was strangely quiet. Dave watched him strip and head into the bathroom without comment, but when he came out again, Dave stopped him. "Everything okay, babe? You looked like you were having fun tonight. You were, weren't you?"

"Yeah, of course." Puck nodded. "It was hilarious. And Kurt had a good time. Single Ladies, man, I couldn't believe it."

"Yeah, I didn't expect them to actually play it."

Puck eyed Dave. "No… I saw what you did, requesting it. You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I did," Dave said, with a sigh. "That guy, Marcus, he ditched Kurt halfway through the evening, and it was because of something I said. I owed it to him."

Puck nodded. "And you're really going swimming at - one thirty in the morning?"

"What the hell. It's not going to kill me." Dave took a towel from the bathroom and handed one to Puck. "I can be a good sport, right?"

"Dave..." Puck put a hand on his chest as he tried to head out the door. "You're allowed to have fun _your_ way, too. I mean - sometimes it can just be about what you want. You don't have to apologize for that."

"I'm not," Dave insisted. "I'm not apologizing. I'm just trying to take care of Kurt."

Puck nodded. "Yeah. You're good at that." Then he threw an arm around Dave's neck and pulled him into a kiss.

"Babe..." Dave kissed him back, and accepted Puck's embrace, feeling troubled. "Really, tell me - is everything okay?"

Puck just kissed him again. Dave didn't push him for more, but he held on to Puck's hand as they went to find Kurt.

But they found him leaning against the wall in the hallway, clutching his towel tight to his chest. Dave stopped in his tracks as he realized Kurt was crying. "Puck," he whispered, letting go of his hand.

"I can take this one," Puck said, glancing at Dave's face, which he was sure must look terrified. "You - just go on, and we'll meet you on the pool deck."

Dave didn't make him ask twice. He stared after Kurt, who was turning aside from Puck, trying to wave him away. _I don't get it,_ Dave wanted to whine. _What did I do wrong? I thought it had been a good night._

He headed for the elevators, not at all sure he was doing the right thing by leaving Kurt with Puck, but he didn't want to overwhelm Kurt if he was freaking out about - well, about _Dave._

_This night isn't over,_ he thought, stabbing the button for the pool deck. _I can still make this right. Somehow._


	5. Chapter 5

The breeze on the pool deck was mild, and Dave was pretty sure he'd never seen so many stars in his life. The bartenders were still serving. Dave considered having a fourth beer, but decided it'd be better not to add to the confusion.

Marcus had been right. _Complicated. _God, how had this happened? Dave didn't even really know what was going on, but it was clear Kurt was feeling... something. Whatever it was, he didn't need that on top of everything else he was dealing with. Kurt needed _Vincent. _But he wouldn't be around for eight more months.

Dave sat there on the deck, watching the guys in the pool and trying not to panic, until Puck and Kurt finally emerged from the elevators. Kurt's face was red and blotchy, but he seemed to be smiling. Puck, on the other hand, looked just as troubled as he had when they'd left the room. Dave decided rushing them and demanding answers was the wrong approach, so he stayed where he was, giving them a little wave, and waited for Puck to come to him. Kurt dropped his towel onto a chair and climbed right into the pool, beginning a series of slow laps.

"Tell me," Dave said to Puck, his voice tight. "What's going on? I'm freaking out here."

"He's fine." Puck sighed, watching Kurt swim. "Missing Vincent, right? It's not anything new, it just hit him all of a sudden. He had a good night dancing. He doesn't give a shit about Marcus leaving. He -" Puck stopped, and shook his head. "He's fine," he repeated.

"Yeah. Okay." Dave wasn't convinced, but for the moment, things were better, and he was willing to go with that. "Maybe he just needs some sleep. It's awfully late."

"Hey, how many opportunities do you get to swim under the stars like this?" Puck took his hand. "Come in with me?"

Puck was persuasive even when Dave _wasn't_ overwrought and overtired. They climbed down the ladder into the water, which was warm and soothing. Puck snagged a volleyball from the pool deck and they knocked it back and forth for a few minutes. Dave could feel some of his tension dissipating.

Kurt didn't join them for volleyball, and when the guys in the hot tub climbed out and left it empty, Kurt abandoned the pool and went to soak in the tub instead. Dave watched him settle into the water, observing his bowed head and tense shoulders with unhappy frustration.

"Babe," said Puck softly. Dave turned to him. He realized they were the only ones left on the pool deck. Even the bartender was closing up shop.

Puck moved toward him through the shallow water and put his arms around his neck, like they were slow dancing. "Babe," he said again.

"What?" said Dave. He let Puck brush a hand through his hair.

"I get it. It sucks. You hate seeing him feeling like this."

"Yeah." He shrugged. "So do you."

"Different." Puck's eyes were solemn. "You love him."

"Yeah, well... that was a long time ago. I moved on, Kurt moved on."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Puck let out a short sigh. "Dave - I think you need to do something."

Dave shook his head. "What?"

"Sleep with him."

For a minute, Dave waited for the punch line. "What?" he repeated a third time.

"Just for tonight. Come on, he's been in love with you forever. He's having a terrible time and he's so convinced it's never going to get any better."

Dave couldn't help it. He laughed, it was so ludicrous. "What, because - because sex solves everything? Because it's better than anonymous sex with some guy he's never going to see again?"

"Because you're in love with _him,"_ Puck said, as matter-of-factly as though he'd said _because the earth is round. _"That's not going away. And he needs you."

"No," Dave said, refusing to take this seriously, refusing to feel any approaching panic. He tried to calm himself down. "No, he doesn't. No way. Are you crazy? Things are already complicated enough. How could this - how could you think I would ever -" He shook his head, over and over. "No."

"Babe, I've been thinking about this for a long time," Puck said, sounding entirely too reasonable. Dave knew what that tone of voice usually meant. "Kurt's never going to ask anybody for help. He's not that guy. He's the guy who sucks it up and deals, no matter how hard things get. No matter how much he needs something, if he thinks he shouldn't have it, he puts up with _not having it._" He stared at Dave. "Sound like anybody you know?"

Dave opened his mouth and closed it again. Puck went on. "You've got me. I'm not going anywhere. This wouldn't change anything between us."

"It would," Dave whispered. "It would change - everything."

"It wouldn't," Puck insisted. "He's your best friend, and you guys have all this history together. We all do. There's nothing that can change any of that. He _trusts _you, Dave. He needs somebody who can help him deal with missing Vincent."

_By having sex with somebody else? _It didn't make any sense at all. Never mind that Vincent had basically told Kurt to do the same thing. He kept shaking his head, until Puck grabbed his head and kissed him, with force. Dave took a step back, stumbling, until they were up against the rough concrete of the pool deck.

"Tell me you don't want him," Puck hissed. "Tell me, and I'll leave you alone."

Dave squeezed his eyes closed, trying to _unsee_ the images from his dream. Kurt, on his knees, in the McKinley hallway, in front of Dave. "You know I can't do that."

"Yeah. Now tell me he doesn't want you." He wouldn't let Dave look away.

"I - I don't know."

"Yeah, you do. He told you on the phone, last year." He sighed. "And he told _me,_ too, just now, in the hallway. He's fucking confused and it's tearing him up."

Dave didn't understand why Puck didn't seem upset by this idea. "How could you think that - doing _this -_ would make anything less confusing? It seems like it would just make everything _worse."_

Puck's lips twisted. "Maybe if you and Kurt had jealous boyfriends. But you don't. Maybe in a world where you couldn't actually have what you want. But you _can._ I'm saying you can. You want it. Kurt wants it. He _needs_ you, Dave."

"You keep saying that," he moaned. "He needs _Vincent."_

"Yeah, and when's he going to be back? Tell me Kurt would be better off after eight months of _that."_ He pointed at the hot tub, where Kurt sat facing away from them, alone. They stood in the quiet pool, the only sound the wind and the waves. And then he heard another sound, faint and tremulous. Kurt. Kurt was crying again.

Puck sighed. "For fuck's sake," he muttered, striding toward the hot tub.

Dave heard Puck's reasonable argument echo in his head. All his fears and anxieties were overwhelmed by the sound of Kurt's quiet tears. He followed Puck, more slowly. By the time he reached the edge of the hot tub, Puck was already climbing in, putting his arms around Kurt. Kurt lost it, sobbing into Puck's arms.

Dave couldn't bear it any longer. "Kurt," he said, stepping down into the water. The heat of the water didn't distract him from settling down next to Kurt, putting a hand on his back, feeling his shaking body. "God, Kurt... I'm so sorry."

Puck helped him turn and shift so that he had Dave's arms around him instead, Dave's hands carding through his hair, Dave's shoulder supporting him, so he could cry in safety.

"Shhh," Dave whispered. "You're okay. I've got you. It's going to be okay."

Kurt nodded his head, as though he believed him, but he didn't stop crying. Dave shot a worried look at Puck, who moved in a little closer, creating a shelter of bodies in which Kurt might fall apart. "We're here, Kurt," Puck said, touching his back. "Not gonna leave you alone. Whatever you need, it's okay. Really."

Puck's hand stroked Kurt's shoulder and ended up resting on Dave's arm, wrapped around him. He squeezed the arm. _Go on,_ said the squeeze. _Give him what he needs._

But Dave didn't know if he could do it. Yeah, this was Kurt in his arms, the stuff of fantasies. Yeah, he was needy and hurting and Dave could give him comfort. Yeah, he was touching Dave - his hands were uncurling, and stroking against Dave's chest, brushing his stomach, and - his mouth was, wait a second, his mouth was on Dave's chin, his neck, and he was -

"Please," Kurt whispered. Dave heard Puck's breathing shift, and he squeezed Dave's arm again. "Please, David."

"Yes," Dave said, cupping Kurt's cheek. He wasn't at all sure he could, but - he had to try, for Kurt. He had no idea if it would be okay the next day, the next moment, but he had to give up that certainty. He had to, to give Kurt what he needed. "Yes, baby, I'm here."

Their lips brushed, uncertainly, tentatively. It was nothing at all like their last kiss had been, eleven years ago. Kurt sought more, but Dave held back, waiting, wanting to be absolutely sure, because dammit, this time it was going to be _right._

"Please," Kurt said again, more insistent this time. His arms wound around Dave's neck, pulling him down, and he was suddenly _straddling _Dave in the water, kneeling over him, and their kiss moved immediately from gentle to passionate with no warning at all. Dave heard Puck make a familiar noise of wanting, and he felt his presence next to Kurt, next to them both.

"This is okay?" Puck said, tense and taut. "This - me, here?"

Dave wanted to say _yeah, of course, it's just right,_ but he waited, letting Kurt lead. He watched Kurt glance at Puck, then back at Dave, his eyes dark and liquid.

"It's okay," Kurt said, nodding. "It's - um. It's very okay."

Kurt's body, lean and strong and so perfect, pressed against Dave, practically lying on top of him in the sunken tub, and his pink lips, that Dave had dreamed about for so long, connecting with Dave's... well, _okay _was not an adjective he'd have chosen. Superlatives were rushing through his mind at a pace too rapid to clock.

"What do you want?" he asked Kurt, watching the tears spring anew into his eyes. "Hey. Baby, it's okay, don't cry."

"He can cry if he has to," Puck said, his voice low. He moved his hand from Dave's arm to Kurt's neck, squeezing, giving pressure. Kurt pulled Dave into another kiss, moaning a little, and just that tiny noise was so unbelievably _hot _that Dave took Kurt's hips in his hands, thrusting up against him.

The little moan turned into a gasp, and instead of twisting away as Dave had feared, Kurt ground down right back. The friction between their bodies, cloaked only by bare single layers of cloth, was exquisite.

"God, David," Kurt said, and he did it again, that grind-thrust-gasp, and Puck made an echoing moan, and Dave thought in sudden panic, _oh my god, I'm going to come right here._

"We can't," he said, pulling away a few inches, "we can't do this -"

Puck and Kurt stared back at him, the expressions on their faces nearly identical. _We want this, Dave, _they both said.

He took a deep breath. "We can't do this - here." He took Kurt's hand in his. "Come back to our room. All right? It's... it's going to be fine."

The act of climbing out, of wrapping towels around their waists - because clearly, they were all in no condition to be walking through the hallways in swimsuits in _this _state - of moving away from one another, even just the span of their bodies apart - it gave Dave an opportunity to clear his head. He had a moment to think things through. But his brain wasn't only parsing a limited supply of words. _Kurt,_ he thought, still somewhat incredulous, watching him precede them into the elevator. _Puck. And me._

"Kurt," he blurted, and Kurt turned toward him in the elevator, his eyes wide. "Do you -" He paused, then tried again. "Are you sure you really want this? Want - this, with me?"

Kurt's face cleared, and he smiled wistfully. "David," he sighed, touching his bare chest, still wet. "You might as well ask if I want a slice of cheesecake. _Of course._ Yes."

Dave wasn't sure what comparing him to cheesecake said about Kurt's state of mind. Maybe he should have kept pushing, asked a better question, like, _are you sure this is a good idea_. But he didn't. He just nodded. "And... Puck." He held out his hand, and Puck took it with a grin.

"Dude, do you have to ask? God, that was about the hottest thing I've ever seen. I'm not going _anywhere."_

Kurt's laugh, however nervous, was a welcome sound. But Dave had to be sure. He shifted his hand to Puck's back, guiding him so that Kurt and Puck were abruptly facing each other. Puck looked startled.

"Uh," he said.

"Kurt," Dave said, "you're okay with Puck being... here?"

_Here,_ as it turned out, was in Kurt's arms, because Kurt moved right in to embrace him. Puck said, "Whoa," and then they were kissing, and _damn, _Puck was right, it really was just about the hottest thing he'd ever seen, way better than any kind of porn he'd ever seen, anywhere. Because this was _Kurt Hummel, _and he was kissing _Noah Puckerman._

"Yeah," said Kurt, with a throaty chuckle. "I'm okay with it."

Puck looked a little shell-shocked as the elevator dinged and they pulled apart. Even their towels weren't doing a very good job at hiding their situation. Dave was unaccountably grateful for the late hour, because the hallways were empty on their way back to their cabins.

_Cabin,_ Dave corrected his thought, as they paused before the door. _One cabin. _He unlocked it and let them inside, going in last. The crowded, cramped room seemed even more crowded than before, with three bodies inside. Three nearly naked, aroused male bodies.

Puck was the first one to drop his towel, and he took Dave's shoulders in his two hands and kissed him hard, the way Dave loved it. Dave was suddenly struck with a sense of stage fright under Kurt's intense blue gaze, but that was immediately eclipsed by the rush of lust he felt at doing this in front of Kurt, knowing Kurt wanted to do it with _him._ Kurt leaned against Dave's side, the heat of his skin and the sound of his groan layering additional want on top of want, until one simple kiss turned into Puck and Dave rutting desperately against one another.

"Wait," Dave said, trying to back off. He tried to laugh. "I'm going to - uh, this is going to be over really quick, if you keep doing that." He turned to Kurt, clutching his towel. "You... this is for you. It's about what you need. You should...tell us what you want."

"Oh, David," Kurt said. The towel fell to the floor, and he stepped into the space between Dave and Puck, brushing up against both of them. "No, it's not for me. It's for _us._ _We _get to decide." He tilted his head to look back at Puck. "All of us."

"Hey, man, I'm just along for the ride," Puck said, smiling. "You're the stars of this show. I'm not saying I don't want things, but - I'm gonna let you guys drive, okay?"

_Drive._ Kurt gazed up at Dave, the quality of his smile indicating exactly who he wanted to have _drive._ Dave was both relieved and intimidated by the idea, but for now, he simply took Kurt in his arms and held him, not kissing or rubbing or anything, just feeling their bodies together.

"God, Kurt," he said, suddenly overwhelmed by what was happening. "We're really doing this?"

Kurt shifted just enough so Dave could feel him nod, and hear his whispered answer. "Please."

The first moment of awkwardness happened when Puck shed his swimsuit. He tossed it into the bathroom onto the tile, then returned to throw the bedspread and sheets back, leaving the bed as bare as he was, and gazing at them both in challenge. _Here I am, _his look said. _Ready for you guys to show me what's next._

"Safe sex talk," Kurt said, raising both eyebrows. "Um - I'm guessing you guys don't use condoms."

That statement said volumes about what Kurt might want. Dave felt a little dizzy at the thought.

"We haven't, for a while," Puck agreed, glancing at Dave. "And we never did, with oral sex. We're both clean."

"I've only ever had sex with condoms," Kurt said. "But not oral sex. And I'm clean, too. Me, and Vincent, both."

There was a pause of anticipation as they all considered the possibilities. Dave hesitated to say anything at all, but the words seemed to be flowing just fine between Puck and Kurt, and he had to trust they'd still be okay even if Dave started talking too. Anyway, he had to do the responsible thing.

"I think you'd better go back to your room and get them, then," Dave said quietly. He didn't want Kurt to feel like he was breaking any agreements. "Just in case."

Kurt's smile took his breath away. "Just in case," he agreed, and vanished out the door.

In the silence, Puck let out an amazed chuckle. "Holy fuck, Dave."

"Yeah," Dave agreed. He took Puck into his arms, now, just as he'd held Kurt moments ago. They felt so different, their skin, the shape of their limbs, the proportions, their scent. He had no idea how he could desire both of them, or even if he should, but there was no doubt he did. He felt a pang of sharp regret, because after today, he'd never be able to erase the experience of holding Kurt, even just this once - and now holding Puck would never feel quite the same again.

"You're sure this is okay," he begged, and Puck jerked back, staring at him in wonder.

"God, Dave," he muttered. "This is so much more than _okay."_

It was close enough to what Dave had been thinking earlier that he laughed, clutching Puck tight. "I don't want to - to mess anything up between us."

"But you don't really think it will, do you?" said Puck.

He took a long breath. "No," he said finally. "No. I don't. We're... okay."

It was good to say it aloud, and to see Puck's encouraging smile. And then there was a knock at the door, and the smile turned to a smirk.

"You'd better get that," Puck said, relaxing back onto the bed. "I'm already naked."

Dave opened the door on one of the most bizarre sights, one he'd not even imagined or dreamt about: Kurt Hummel, standing in a terrycloth robe, holding a strip of condoms. Smiling at him.

"All right, David," he murmured. "Now can I come in?"

The second awkward moment happened when Kurt leaned over Puck to set the condoms down on the table next to the bed, and Puck grabbed Kurt in both hands and pulled him down on top of him. Kurt squawked, landing on him with a grunt. Then Puck wound his arms around Kurt's back, hauling him into a kiss.

"Puck," Dave protested, but Kurt was laughing, and he didn't think he _minded, _exactly, so Dave didn't interfere. He wondered if he should feel weird about this, watching the two of them together.

"Whatever happened to letting David _drive?"_ Kurt asked, shifting his position so he was crouching on top of Puck, his elbows on top of Puck's arms, effectively pinning him. Puck was momentarily stunned.

"Yeah, well," Puck said, his voice only a little shaky. "I tend to go for what I want."

"Is that right?" Kurt's smile spread. "Well. That might be an interesting thing for you to try." He traced a hand from Puck's neck, down his chest, to his stomach. "Or maybe you just need to _ask._ I bet David will follow through, if you ask nicely enough."

Dave could almost hear the _holy shit _in Puck's voice, but Puck couldn't say anything because Kurt's mouth was preventing him from speaking. He could only make surprised little moans. Dave was spurred into action when he heard Puck's breathing catch and his pace speed up, because he wasn't inclined to rush to any conclusion.

"Hold up, Kurt," Dave said, putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "He's almost done, right here."

Kurt sat up, kneeling over Puck, his smile rich with satisfaction. "Really," he purred. "That's… fantastic." He gazed down at Puck, who sat up propped on two elbows, his eyes glassy.

Dave couldn't believe the change in Kurt. He wasn't scared or sad anymore. He seemed like he knew exactly what he wanted, and he clearly wasn't afraid to do something about it.

"You've just wanted - this, all along?" he asked, drawing Kurt's robe down off his shoulders. The sight of his skin was too much for Dave, and he brought his lips down onto Kurt's neck, kissing him, tasting him. Kurt gasped, as he had in the hot tub, and just as he had there, he thrust forward, catching Puck by surprise. Puck responded in kind, enthusiastically thrusting back.

"God, David, _yes,"_ Kurt moaned. "I wanted this - so much. But I couldn't ask for it. I knew I couldn't. I mean, really, who gets to _have_ this?" He took the rest of his robe off, and Dave helped untie it from his waist and set it aside. Kurt was still kneeling over Puck, but now they were both naked, which didn't seem to bother either one of them.

Kurt stroked fingers over Puck's nipple ring, and hearing his response, gave it an enthusiastic twist. Puck cried out, bucking helplessly against Kurt, and Kurt laughed.

"You do," Puck said, squirming, his hands moving to Kurt's chest, making circles on Kurt's nipples with his thumbs. Kurt leaned into the touch, tossing his head and arching his back. "You get to have this."

Kurt paused for a moment, his eyes closed, and shook his head, still laughing. When he opened his eyes again, they fell on Dave, still standing beside the bed, still wearing his swimsuit. He glanced down at Puck, and together, they held out their hands to Dave.

"Please," said Kurt. "Come here. If I get to have this, really, I want you right here." He patted the space on the bed next to Puck. "Take off that suit and come lie down."

As though in a dream, Dave dropped his swimsuit to the floor and crawled onto the bed, sitting cross-legged. He wasn't at all sure how he felt about Kurt being in charge like this, but it seemed to be working for Puck, and for Kurt. Who was he to argue? He'd always assumed Kurt would want things to be gentle in bed. The things he wanted to do to Kurt, in his dreams, and now in his fertile imagination, spurred by Puck and Kurt together, here - they weren't very gentle.

But _Kurt _wasn't being very gentle, either. He was staring at Dave, at his naked body, like it was his next meal. Or possibly his _last _meal.

"God," Kurt muttered. _"Dave."_

Puck grinned smugly. "I know, right? Pretty incredible."

Kurt shook his head. "I can't believe I get to say this," he said, "but I guess I do." He faced Dave and leaned over, kissing him soundly. "David... you have a very, _very _hot boyfriend."

Puck laughed in surprise, which was cut off when Kurt swung back to Puck, leaning over his naked body to kiss _him,_ next.

"Puck," Kurt said, in exactly the same tone, "_you _have a very, very hot boyfriend."

"Yeah, I know," Puck said. "And he's totally in love with you."

That wasn't quite right. Dave wasn't sure how he could bring it up in this moment, though, because watching Kurt and Puck there, with their eyes full of each other - he didn't want to interrupt that.

The shock that passed over Kurt's face was almost comical. Kurt sat back, staring at Dave, blinking. "I -" he said, then stopped.

"And you're totally in love with him," Puck added. He slithered out from under Kurt's hold, clearly not at all _actually _pinned, and practically shoved Kurt at Dave. Dave found himself with a lapful of startled, flushed, aroused Kurt.

"Come on, say it," Puck prompted. "Might as well get it out into the open."

Dave's face was about three inches from Kurt's skin. In a second, he was going to lose his power of speech. "Kurt..."

"David," Kurt whispered. "This is... so much."

Dave nodded, holding his breath. He stroked Kurt's ear with one finger. "Too much?"

"No, god, no." Improbably, Kurt looked over at Puck. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" Puck snorted. "Fuck, Kurt, do I have to say it for you? Here, like this." He knelt beside Dave, hooking his neck with one hand and kissing him. That sensation, while holding Kurt in his arms, was way, way more intense than he'd expected it to be. Then Puck pulled back, far enough so Dave could feel his breath on his face.

"I love you, Dave," Puck said, sounding only a little unsteady. "I love you so fucking much."

"God," said Dave. "Puck, I - I love you, too."

"Okay, then." He relinquished Dave's head and turned it to face Kurt. "Your turn. You've said it before."

Dave had barely allowed himself to think the words for almost a decade. He had to consider them for a moment. Were they still true? He thought about Kurt at the karaoke bar, singing to him, and knew the answer.

"Kurt," said Dave, and cupped his head with one hand. Immediately, Kurt relaxed into his hand, letting Dave hold him up. It was a satisfying feeling, to hold Kurt and to know he was trusting Dave, to keep him safe, not to let him fall. It gave him courage to say what was true. "Kurt... baby, I've always loved you."

"Oh," Kurt whispered. "David." He touched his face, his hair, his neck. "I love you, too."

It wasn't like Dave had forgotten Kurt had ever said those words to him, but hearing them again, like this, in this moment, was the most incredible experience. He closed his eyes, letting himself savor them.

"Say it again," Puck urged. "I don't think he believes it yet."

"God," Dave moaned, but Kurt clutched him close, and Dave held him closer still, Kurt's voice echoing the words over and over, _I love you, I love you, David, I love you. _It undid him entirely, and he found himself crying.

"Really?" he asked, his voice breaking. "Really, you really - god, this is really happening?"

"Really," Kurt said, reaching out an arm to include Puck in the embrace. "I really think it is."

Dave held them both tight, the tears almost irrelevant in the face of these _feelings._ There were too many questions, now, too much of the complicated that was lurking just outside the door of their cabin, waiting for dawn. But that wasn't here yet. For now, they just had _this._ And god, it was so _good._

There was a third awkward moment, when both Puck and Dave reached for the condoms at the same time. They stared at each other, willing the other to give up their desire first.

"You want to fuck him," Puck said, low and urgent, and Dave shuddered.

"I want to do everything," he said, but of course Puck was right. "And that's up to Kurt."

"Well, I was wondering about that dream," Kurt began. Puck froze in mid-grope.

"_Puck,"_ Dave growled. "You _told him?"_

"Maybe?" Puck avoided his eyes by propping up the pillows on the wall. "Come on, man. I just mentioned it. I didn't think we'd actually be doing any of it."

Kurt eyed the pillows. "And now…?"

"Well, he was standing up in the dream," Puck supplied, "but I don't think it's actually what he wants. Really; who wants to be standing up while somebody's giving you a –"

"_Puck!"_

Kurt got it, then, and he took a red-faced Dave and pressed him up against the wall, leaving him seated against the pillows. Puck tucked himself comfortably against Dave's side, perfectly positioned to kiss him and whisper into his ear, which is exactly what he did.

"Kurt, you really don't have to –" Dave protested weakly, as Kurt knelt between his thighs.

"Oh, yes," said Kurt, so earnestly. "Yes, David, I really, _really_ do. Puck, if you would, please…? I need my prompts."

"You're in the hallway in McKinley, by the trophy case," Puck said, in a breathy stage whisper. Dave closed his eyes, giving in to the reality that the most embarrassing fantasy he'd ever had was coming to life. "You're begging him for it."

"Mmmm," Kurt said, stroking Dave's legs with his hands. Dave heard his voice go pleading, his breath landing on Dave's belly in hot little pants. "God, Dave, please… I need to suck your cock, I need it _so bad…"_

It shouldn't have worked at all, because Dave knew it was fake – except there Kurt was, exactly where Dave wanted him, kneeling in front of him, _actually_ gazing up at him with those impossibly blue eyes, _actually_ begging Dave to let him… as though, maybe, he really did want that.

Puck went on. "And then… there's the janitor, coming down the hallway, and you can hear him, making noises… right?"

"Yeah, but that part wasn't hot," Dave complained, laughing. He reached down and laid a gentle hand on Kurt's head, feeling the movement, but not actually interfering.

"You're telling me it wasn't hot for _me_ to interrupt Kurt giving you a blowjob?" Puck wasn't whispering anymore, but his voice was tense, and he nudged up against Dave's hip, stroking himself idly. "Because, fuck, Dave, that was _really_ hot for me, and it wasn't even my fantasy."

"So this is hot for you, now?" Kurt paused to ask. Dave resisted the urge to wrap his hands in that _hair_ and make him keep going. The thought made him quiver.

"You better believe it, babe," Puck affirmed, running an affectionate hand down the curve of Kurt's shoulder. Kurt grinned up at him before resuming his activity. The whole experience was overwhelming to Dave. And not just because it was his dream, but because here they were, on the heels of a declaration of _love_, for God's sake, and there Kurt was… Watching him elicited another gasp from Dave. He was already close.

"Kurt," he said, in desperation, because he had to know. "You're not just doing this for me, are you? You… you really want to do... that?"

Kurt stopped long enough to stare up at him in abject astonishment (three seconds), then to laugh his ass off (another five). "Oh, _David,"_ he said. "Me, on my knees in front of you, and you, making me do this? I can't count the number of times I've gotten off to _that_ fantasy."

That was enough reassurance for Dave, and he let his hands return to Kurt's head, applying a little more force this time. Kurt's enthusiastic moans encouraged him to give a little tug, but it was Puck's erratic breathing and echoing sounds that put him over the edge.

"God, Kurt," he groaned, his hips coming up off the bed. Kurt didn't seem to mind in the slightest that he had a firm hold on his hair.

"Shh," said Puck, biting his earlobe. "The _janitor_ might hear you."

"The _janitor _is about to get a slap on the ass if he doesn't shut up,"Dave muttered, but his threat had zero force behind it, considering he was collapsed against the pile of pillows when he said it.

Kurt crawled up between Dave's legs and settled against his chest, looking justifiably smug at what he'd just done. It was close enough for Dave to touch him, because he was clearly still turned on, and Dave was considering the best approach when Puck beat him to it.

"Oh god," Kurt said, going boneless as Dave's hands came up behind him, trapping his arms, while Puck knelt before him, stroking him slowly.

"You get to pick now, baby," Dave said to Kurt, while grinning at Puck. "You can have anything you want."

"Anything, huh?" Kurt pointed an eyebrow at Dave's soft cock. "I think I'll have to wait for _some_ things. But I can be patient. Maybe in a couple more hours, you'll be ready to go again." He thrust suggestively into Puck's hand. "In the meantime, I think there's somebody here who needs to be fucked."

_Me,_ Dave almost blurted, but he managed to keep his head, because of course it was Puck who got to have that, and _wow,_ wasn't that a hell of an image. Puck seemed to think so, judging by how fast he went to find the lube. In the meantime, Kurt wasn't struggling to get away from Dave's hold, but Dave didn't let go, either.

Kurt leaned back against him, his hair brushing Dave's bare chest. "David," he said, and Dave could hear the intensity still there in his voice. It was comforting to know he wasn't the only one feeling it, no matter how flippant their conversation. Kurt turned his head to bring his cheek in contact with Dave's bicep, his breathing uneven. "I need to know that you're okay with this. Me, and Puck. Because we don't have to do anything, if you're not."

Dave leaned in and kissed Kurt's exposed neck, letting Kurt's moan wash over him. "I think if the two of you want it, you should have it. I'm not jealous."

He wasn't, exactly, but that didn't mean all the possible consequences of this single encounter for the next five or ten years weren't filtering through his head. In the end, though, he wasn't going to stand in their way, and yeah, it had been _incredibly_ hot to watch Kurt kneeling on top of Puck. He couldn't imagine how much hotter it might be to be present while they... he took a deep breath in, let it out.

"You just gave me something... really amazing," he went on, and kissed Kurt again. "I wouldn't say no to you getting what you want."

Kurt tugged out of Dave's grip, and Dave let his hold go slack enough that Kurt was able to turn over in Dave's arms. He didn't exactly kneel on top of him the way Kurt had done with Puck; rather, he climbed onto his legs and stuck his face right in Dave's line of sight.

"You think I'm not getting what I want?" Kurt demanded. "You, naked in my bed -"

"My bed," Dave corrected.

"- fine, _your_ bed, and -" Kurt paused, shaking his head. "I'm naked in your bed, David." He looked a little surprised. "And I'm kissing you."

"Yeah?" Dave wasn't sure what he could say to that, other than to kiss him back, and add, "It's incredible."

They were starting to get lost in that when Kurt made a delicious noise, one that could have been attributed to tasting something incredible, but in this case seemed to be about something Puck was doing, kneeling behind Kurt.

"Somebody needs to get fucked, huh?" Puck said, and he did whatever it was again, or something equally incredible, because Kurt made the same noise again, louder. Dave shifted one leg over, trying not to feel too hopeful, but the position was promising for Dave getting what he wanted, again, and he wasn't going to complain if it turned out that way. "Maybe more than one person, if we can figure out the logistics."

Kurt looked like he'd knocked his head into a door. He turned dazed eyes on Dave, but managed to use his knees to nudge Dave's legs open. Puck moved, and Kurt made the noise a third time, a little higher this time. It definitely fell into the category of one of the hottest things Dave had ever heard. He wanted to tell Puck _just keep doing that, so I can hear Kurt make the noise again._

"We're not doing a very good job of letting you drive, David," said Kurt. Dave could feel the hot, firm pressure of Kurt's cock against the skin of his inner thigh. He took a few moments to close his eyes and memorize that sensation. "Change of plans okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's - that's fine, okay," Dave said, trying to get all the words out. He glanced up at Puck, kneeling behind Kurt, and met his gaze, nodding at Puck's unspoken question. It was okay that Puck didn't say the question out loud. Because, really, hearing Puck say the words _Dave, is it okay if I lube up this guy you've always had a thing for and take him, right here, while he fucks you?_ might have done him in.

"Fantastic," Kurt breathed. He reached across Dave for the strip of condoms and deftly tore one off, ripping it open with his teeth. Dave couldn't see how he did it, but Kurt didn't seem to have any problem putting the condom on himself with one hand. It wasn't something Dave had ever felt accomplished at doing, but then, he hadn't had much practice at it, even in those years between high school and Puck. It made him feel a little sad and a little angry that Kurt apparently _had._ But right now, with Kurt watching him with that hungry expression, he couldn't think too much about anything.

Then Dave saw Kurt's eyes widen, and his lip tremble, and he kissed Dave hard as Puck leaned over him, one hand tucked underneath. To hear Kurt make that same noise, but this time right _into his mouth,_ was a fantasy he didn't even know he'd had. Dave could feel Puck's fingers brushing lightly against his balls as they pressed into Kurt. The combination of the familiar hands touching him and the unfamiliar body in his arms made him a little dizzy.

"Let me take care of that, babe," Dave heard Puck say, and he had no idea who Puck was addressing, but it didn't matter, because, _oh,_ Puck's wet fingers were entering him, and he spread his legs wider, making space for them. Puck let out a low moan. "Fuck... you guys are so fucking _hot."_

Dave thrust up against Puck's fingers, and heard Kurt's gasp. "David," he pleaded.

"It's okay, Kurt," he said, trying to hold him steady without crushing him. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. _Okay_ seemed so incredibly inadequate for all the things he was feeling, all the complicated fears and desires that were competing for attention in his brain. _I'll take care of you_,and_ I've wanted this for over ten years, _and even _you smell even better than I thought you would._ None of that was going to be enough, so all he could do was rely on Kurt to understand, by the way he held him, the expression he hoped he was showing him.

Dave thought, though, from the look in Kurt's luminous, overwhelmed eyes that Kurt really _could_ understand the meaning he felt behind this act - the importance of Kurt, sliding inside him. Of all the things they'd been through together in their lives, the good and the bad, nothing would have prepared him for the gratitude he felt in that moment at Kurt's willingness to forgive him... to forgive him enough to do _this_ with him.

It got simpler and simpler after that as all the confusing emotions were stripped away, leaving just three bodies moving together in increasingly insistent rhythm. The sounds were simplified, too, language reduced to curses and moans and frantic affirmations, and each other's names, repeated over and over.

It came to an end when Dave heard the familiar noises of Puck approaching climax, the noises that so frequently made him come all by themselves. The noises which, incidentally, seemed to be having a similar effect on Kurt. His thrusts became erratic and more rapid as Puck's sounds escalated. Dave's body also didn't seem to realize he'd just _had_ an orgasm in the past half hour - or possibly the presence of Kurt Hummel fucking him was enough to trump any kind of refractory period he'd previously thought he had - because it was enthusiastically participating right along with the two of them. He managed to tuck a hand in and stroke himself to completion seconds ahead of Kurt.

Their noises started to make more sense after that, comprised first of endearments, names Dave had never expected to use for Kurt - but, now, that seemed perfectly okay. Then there were sighs of appreciation, and incredulous laughter, and groans as they attempted to extract themselves from the pile of sweat and come and tears that had become Dave and Puck's bed.

Finally, there were kisses, and tentative eye contact, and hesitant queries of _you okay?_ The kisses lengthened, and Dave found himself holding Kurt, his body no longer so unfamiliar.

"That was - incredible," he said, his light, high voice made gravelly and rich by the fulfillment of desire. He pressed his lips to Dave's cheek. Then he leaned over to Puck, stretched out on the bed beside them, seemingly content to lie in the formidable wet spot, and kissed him, too. He nearly lost his balance, but Puck caught him in his arms, then pulled him down onto his chest. Dave reached out and put a hand on Kurt's back, feeling his breath move in and out.

"Didn't think I had any more first times _left,"_ Puck murmured, and Kurt laughed.

"What, you've never had sex with two people?" Dave asked, staring up at the ceiling. Puck fumbled for his hand, wedged under Kurt's forearm.

"Not when it mattered," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

Dawn came much sooner than any of them had anticipated when the phone rang at 5 am. Dave fumbled in the dark for his cell before he realized it wasn't his ring.

"s'mine," Kurt murmured, nestled against Puck's side. "In the pocket of my robe."

Dave reached off the side of the bed and snagged Kurt's terry robe off the floor, found his phone and peered at the screen – and woke up all the way in a hurry.

"It's Vincent," he said.

Kurt sat up. "Crap." He reached for the phone.

"You can let it go to voice mail," Dave said. "Talk to him later, when you're more awake."

"No, I should… I have to take this now." Kurt thumbed the Answer button. "Hey," he said softly into the phone. Then he kissed Dave. "I'll be back."

"Take the key from the desk," Dave said. "In case we're asleep." Less than two hours rest was not enough, but thinking about Vincent and Kurt talking was going to make it nearly impossible for Dave to get back to sleep.

Kurt slid off the end of the bed, shouldered into his robe and put the phone to his ear before vanishing out the door. It was the second time in the last several hours Kurt had left their room for his, but this time, Dave guessed Kurt wouldn't be returning with a strip of condoms.

"You're not asleep, are you?" he asked the darkness.

Puck shifted next to him. "No."

Dave reached out to touch him, just to reassure himself that they were both really there, that the dark room really held the two of them; that not every little bit of their world had shifted in the past couple hours. Puck rolled into his touch, resting his head on Dave's chest.

"He said it was okay," Puck said in desperate anxiety. "Vincent told him it would be all right, that he was allowed to see other guys."

"He didn't say Kurt could fall in love with somebody else."

Puck rested his hand on Dave's heart. "But you were _already_ in love with him. And he was already in love with _you. _Nothing's changed."

"I wasn't..." Dave sighed. "You really think nothing's changed?"

Puck didn't answer at first. Finally, he sighed too. "No. I mean… yeah."

Dave knew what he meant. He placed his hand on top of Puck's, holding it close.

"What if – what if you could have it any way you wanted?"

"What do you mean?" asked Dave.

"If everything were magically the way you wanted it to be. If nobody's feelings were hurt. What would you want?"

_God._ "How am I supposed to know that?" he said in a strangled voice.

"I don't know. Maybe you do and maybe you don't. That's why I'm asking. Or maybe you know part of it. I could go first, if you want to know."

Dave wasn't at all sure he did, but he said, "Yeah, sure, go ahead."

"I'd want us to see what we could build, the three of us. Like, together: me, you and Kurt."

"Puck… what about his job? What about _Vincent?"_ Dave could hear his own voice rising, getting more anxious. "And how do you know that Kurt even wants –"

Puck sounded irritated. "Dude, I was just saying what _I_ wanted. Doesn't mean I'm gonna get it."

Dave felt the tension under his skin. He tried to keep breathing normally, to pretend it was going to be all right. But it wasn't going to be fucking _all right._ No matter what happened now, somebody was going to get hurt.

"Hey." Puck nudged him. "Regrets?"

Dave opened his mouth to say _yes,_ but the answer that came out was, "No. It was good. No point in regrets."

"Yeah." Puck squeezed his hand.

"You… uh." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "You really want that? With Kurt?"

"Yeah."

"But you're not even in love with him."

Puck chuckled. "He's been my friend since high school, and I just had sex with him. How do you think I'm feeling about him?"

Dave was abashed. "I – I don't even know."

"Yeah, I care about him. It's not like how I feel about you, Dave, but there's some similar stuff going on. I wouldn't rule it out, under the right conditions. And the way you feel – I mean, the two of you about each other – I think you deserve to have that."

"But... Vincent?" Dave couldn't stop thinking about that. "He's my friend, too. And Kurt loves _him._ Maybe he loves me, too, but it's...different." Just as the way Dave felt about Kurt was different, and he had no idea what Puck thought they deserved to have, but he was far from sure yet if it was something he, or Kurt, actually wanted.

He felt Puck shrug. "He gets a say, just like Kurt does. I like Vincent. But it's Kurt's call, and if he picks you over him, I'm not going to complain."

That made Dave feel miserable. "I don't want him to pick me over him. That _sucks."_

"Yeah." Puck reached up with his lips and kissed Dave's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

He let out a shaky breath. "Okay."

They waited there in the dark until Kurt came back. He still had his phone. Dave could tell he'd been crying.

"David," he said, "Vincent wants to talk to you."

Dave tried not to feel automatic panic on top of the guilt. All he could think of was: _if somebody wanted to do this with Puck, I'd be totally freaking out. _Then he thought, _somebody did do this with Puck, last night._ He laughed to himself, and put the phone to his ear.

"Vincent," he said, feeling Kurt crawl back into bed between the two of them. That was a relief, at least, that Kurt still thought that was okay_._

"_Hey, Dave." _Vincent sounded subdued. _"Uh… sounds like it's been a hell of a few days."_

"Just last night, really." He took Kurt in the curve of his arm, hearing Puck whispering things to him on the other side, sensing Kurt shaking. He was feeling irrationally protective of him. "Did Kurt tell you all of it?"

"_I think so. I mean… if there's more, I'm not sure I want to hear it."_ He sighed. _"Dave, I know this was unexpected. And none of it was outside of the bounds of what Kurt and I had already agreed. So… I guess I want you to know I'm not mad."_

"Thank you," Dave said. "I appreciate it, but you know you don't have to say that, right? You'd be totally justified in feeling… anything, I guess. Including angry."

"_No, not angry. Not at you. You introduced us, after all. I know you know – exactly how great he is."_ Dave heard the tears in Vincent's voice, and he felt his own stupid tears, right there, ready to follow. Vincent composed himself, then went on. _"I think it's premature for us to make any decisions, considering I'm going to be overseas for another eight months. Kurt's still a free agent, and whatever happens is… for the best."_

"Yeah, okay. But… god, Vincent, this has got to be killing you. I don't know if I can keep doing it if I know you're…"

"_Hurting? Yeah. But, Dave, if what Kurt tells me is true, you've been feeling like this for a long time. A lot longer than eight months."_ His voice tightened. _"I wish you'd told me that."_

"Vincent… it was just a maybe thing, for so long. And then, after he did tell me how he felt, last year, he said I shouldn't even think about it unless I could tell him I loved him best. And I couldn't do that. I wasn't leaving Puck."

"_And now?"_

"I'm still not. I mean, I won't. This isn't…" He held Kurt closer, kissed his head. "It's not just about him and me. It's about all of us."

"_Yeah. I guess I'm not sure what to think about that."_

Dave felt a hysterical laugh threaten to escape. "No, me, either. You're not the only one who's confused here." He breathed, trying to stay calm. "I think we need to talk, the three of us. And then you again. I'll tell you what's going on, as much as you want to hear, and I'm sure Kurt will, too." He looked down at Kurt, and felt the tiny nod of his head. "Yeah, he will."

"_Okay. I think I can handle that. Dave… he trusts you. Please, don't promise him anything you don't want to give him. He'll expect it, and if you let him down… I don't think I'd be able to forgive you."_

There went those stupid tears again. He wiped them away with the heel of his hand. "Yeah, I can promise that." He held the phone to his chest. "You want to talk to him again?"

"I can't." Kurt kept his face turned away. "I'm going to call him tomorrow."

"Okay. Vincent…" He sighed. "He loves you. He does."

"_I know that. I'm just not sure it's going to be enough to get us through this." _He didn't sound bitter, just bewildered. _"I'll talk to you later, Dave."_

"Yeah. Bye." He thumbed the phone off and tossed it on the floor. "God, Kurt, I'm –"

"_Don't_ tell me you're sorry," he snapped. "_I'm_ not sorry."

Dave paused. "Okay. Then… what are you?"

"Confused. Scared. And… and excited, and anticipatory, and… happy." Kurt leaned in harder against Dave, and he felt _very _clearly against his leg how Kurt was feeling.

"Oh," he said, smiling hard enough to break his face in two. "Uh. Yeah. Me, too." He rolled Kurt over so he was on top of him. "And glad we have four more days of this cruise."

Kurt groaned in relief. "You're sure about this?"

"No," Dave said honestly. "But I want it. And Puck does, too."

"Yeah, I got that," Kurt said, and Dave could hear the smile. "He's not subtle. Can we – turn the light on?"

"Never pegged you for a lights-on kind of guy, Kurt," Puck quipped, but his hands were gentle, and he kissed Kurt for several long moments while Dave got up and flipped the switch.

"I don't want to miss any of it," Kurt admitted shyly. "Never had anybody I wanted to watch as much as I do now."

Dave knew exactly what Kurt meant about having somebody he _wanted to watch._ It wasn't just Puck and Kurt together, although god knows that was hot. It was Kurt, all by himself… and Puck, all by himself. He sat for some time, just watching Kurt hold Puck in his arms, stroking his skin, not touching, just… appreciating what he had. _For however long I get to have it. It's definitely worth it._

"I asked Dave, before," said Puck. "If you could have anything you wanted, without anybody's feelings getting hurt, what would it be?"

Kurt turned sloe eyes toward Dave. "Did you have an answer?"

"No," Dave said. "Not yet."

He nodded. "I would have been surprised at you if you did. You always take your time, thinking things through."

Puck nudged Kurt. "How about you? What would be your best possible outcome?"

Kurt closed his eyes for a minute. "I think…" He swallowed. "All of us, I guess. You, and Dave, and me, and Vincent. Trying to work it out. Being friends, and more, in California. Selfish, I guess."

"I asked what _you_ wanted. You're supposed to be selfish." Puck glanced over at Dave. "And _you_ don't have to be ready to answer yet, babe."

Dave knew this was true, that there was still so much more left to figure out. He didn't think he knew how to be selfish. He also knew that whatever happened, nobody was going to get everything they wanted. He just nodded acknowledgement.

Puck nudged Dave with his foot. "Anything you do know? About what you want?"

Dave felt a moment of unease, because really, he wasn't ready to have that conversation, but he wanted to give them _something._ "Honesty," he said. "We're already doing it, I think, but… I don't want anybody leaving stuff out, because they're afraid?"

"I can do that." Kurt sighed. "I'll try, anyway. This is all... kind of fast. Talking to Vincent... god." He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I should have expected he'd want to know everything, even if I wasn't ready to tell him."

Dave tried to keep his voice steady. "We don't have to rush this. We've got time to think. And… see."

"We definitely need to get out of this room," Puck said, looking around. "If for no other reason that they have to _change the sheets._ And I'm starving."

"No problem," said Kurt. "I have five words for you. _My room; free room service."_

Dave smiled. "See, I knew there was a reason I always considered you to be the smart one."

* * *

Puck fell asleep after two slices of pizza, and Kurt and Dave lay down in the remaining space on the bed in Kurt's room, wrapped up in one another, just being there together, with as much skin as possible touching.

"I can't believe I'm too tired for more sex," Kurt said, and Dave laughed.

"We're not seventeen anymore. I mean, not that I was having sex at seventeen. I wish."

"Well, I _was_ having sex at seventeen, and it wasn't all that good." Kurt winced. "Don't tell Blaine I said that to you. God. _Blaine_. He's never going to believe this. We both had sex dreams about Puck in high school that… never mind."

"Hey, don't stop now. It's just getting good." Dave propped himself up on one elbow, grinning down at Kurt. He ran a hand through Kurt's hair. "_I _used to have dreams about touching this hair."

"And now you can," Kurt said softly. "Please."

"You didn't mind me… uh?" He gave it a little tug, smiling when Kurt moaned approval. "I always figured you wouldn't to mess it up."

"If you hadn't noticed, David, we're not in high school anymore." Kurt used his fingers to map the pattern of Dave's triceps. "Thank god I've loosened up a little since then. And, really, this is _you_ we're talking about. If I'm going to have naughty fantasies about anybody making me take their cock down their throat, it's going to be you."

Dave groaned, because no matter how tired or spent he was, Kurt Hummel saying words like those was_ always_ going to do it for him. "All right, Jesus, Kurt." He shook his head in disbelief. "You, with Puck – it, uh, seemed like you liked being in charge of things."

"I'm kind of used to it," Kurt said, shrugging. "I don't date many guys who want to be the aggressor. I just don't trust them."

"You probably shouldn't," Dave agreed. "But – Kurt, I hope you know I'd never, ever hurt you."

"That's exactly why I do trust you to do that with me." Kurt licked his lips. "I _like_ it. But I've never really wanted it from anybody… except you. So, yeah, me, with other guys… I'm on top." He smiled, blushing a little. "I like it _that_ way, too. And it does _seem_ that Puck likes that, so maybe next time..."

"Yeah," Dave agreed. "He really, really would."

"God." Kurt looked a little starry-eyed. He put a tentative hand on Puck's sleeping form. "Okay, I must be hallucinating. Do I really have these two hot men in my bed?"

"It sure looks like you do," said Dave, giving him a kiss. "And somehow, I suspect we're going to be here for most of the rest of the next three days."

"No doubt," Kurt murmured. They were quiet for a few minutes. Dave thought at first that Kurt had fallen asleep. But eventually he spoke again, sounding much more tentative. "Dave… there's something I'm scared about."

"Okay," Dave said, taking his hand. "Tell me."

He took a deep breath. "I'm afraid that I don't really love Vincent." He closed his eyes. "I'm afraid that he was just a substitute for you all along. Not that you're all that much alike, but – he was convenient, when I was wanting you _so much,_ and now… now I think I'm going to go home and he'll be there, and you'll be back in Columbus, and I'm just going to want…"

"Baby," Dave said unhappily, watching the tears leaking out from behind Kurt's closed eyes. "Vincent's a great guy. You told me yourself, so many times."

"I know he is. And I like him a lot. But – do I love him? Like _this?_ I don't know." He laid a hand on Dave's chest. "Right now, all I can think about is how much I'm going to miss you when you're gone."

"Yeah," Dave whispered, wrapping him back up in his arms and legs again. "You're telling me."

Kurt's voice was small and muffled against Dave's body. "Even though you have Puck? You'll still… miss me?"

He had to swallow on the lump in his throat. "Kurt," he said, "I've been missing you for over a decade. And – yes. I do have Puck. And I never want to be without him."

"You never have to be," came the sleepy murmur from behind them, making them jump. Kurt crawled over Dave to kiss him and touch his face, which made Puck smile in amazement. "Dude. That sounded like a pretty serious conversation, and I was only awake for part of it. Anything I should know?"

Dave considered the conversation he'd just had with Kurt. _Way too many things to list. _He tried to keep it light. "Well, I don't know, babe," he said, "but Kurt confirmed that he was really looking forward to fucking you." Puck and Kurt let out identical moans as Dave grinned. "Oh, and apparently, he had sex dreams about you in high school. And Blaine."

"Everybody had sex dreams about me in high school," Puck said, waving his hand with a smirk. "And, dude, why would anyone have sex dreams about _Blaine?"_


	7. Chapter 7

Dave was a little surprised by the blue skies and fresh air. Apparently the world had kept right on going while he and Puck and Kurt had been holed up in one or the other of their cabins over the past thirty-six hours. He sat on the deck with his iced tea and a basket of chips, blinking at all the guys who kept walking by, going about their business. He wanted to stop one or two of them, to grab their shirts and shake them a little, saying: _Don't you understand? This isn't supposed to happen to me._ But, of course, it wasn't about them. It wasn't about anybody else except him, and Puck, and Kurt.

"You mean they have food on this ship that isn't room service?" Dave looked up to see Puck standing a few feet away, grinning hesitantly. He gestured at the chair next to Dave, and Dave nodded at him to sit down. Puck's hand crept across the table toward Dave and brushed his fingers. It felt so normal, so familiar.

"You're freaking out, aren't you?" Puck said quietly.

"Yeah," Dave had to admit, "I guess I am. Sorry."

Puck shrugged, squeezing his fingers. "I think I know you well enough to figure it would happen eventually. So, spill. What's bothering you?" He took a chip in two fingers and broke it in half, then in half again, reducing it to powder. "I kind of fucked up, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't." Dave rubbed his face with one hand. "Or maybe we all did, not just you. I don't even know. It's just that...babe, I don't think I can do it. What you want." He wanted to apologize again, but he kept quiet, waiting for Puck to digest that.

Puck nodded slowly, concentrating on his hands, the chip. "I think I figured that out a couple hours ago. I thought..." He stopped, then tried again. "I had this idea, that if only you and Kurt could get what you'd wanted after all this time, that everything would be perfect. But... now you have it, and it's not, and I'm feeling like a fucking idiot for even trying." He looked up at Dave in appeal. "I mean, not that it hasn't been awesome, but..." He stopped, and let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm pretty sure I messed everything up. Kurt and Vincent; you and Kurt." He paused, then added, "You and me."

Dave put his hand on Puck's wrist, waiting for him to drop the last bits of chip before taking his hand. "Yeah, I know," he said, and sighed. "I don't want that. But now...it's not really what we _did, _is it? That was fine. But now everybody wants all these new, crazy things, and...I don't know where to start."

Puck shifted his leg under the table so it was pressed up against Dave's knee. The little touch was comforting, but it wasn't enough.

"So..." Dave didn't really want to say this. Or any of it, really, but he thought he needed to. "Things like that don't just come out of nowhere, do they? Maybe you would have wanted something like this eventually, anyway, and it's better to just get it out there now." It might be better to say it, but Dave just wanted to whine, _Not fair._ He would have happily taken one or two or five years with Puck, they way they had been, before having to find out he just couldn't give Puck what he wanted.

But Puck was staring at him like he'd spoken in another language. "What - what do you mean?"

"I mean - first of all, this thing with Kurt...there are reasons that never happened, you know? We just really wouldn't be a good couple. But that doesn't even matter, because... what matters is, I couldn't do it. What I want with you, what we have, I couldn't do it with two people. I think I'd try, for you, but... one guy and a cat is kind of my limit, you know?" He paused. "Maybe two cats. And a kid, part time. And maybe I could add to that, eventually. But...yeah."

Puck grinned despite himself. "I got it, babe. But... you really think I'm trying to get what _I_ want here? I told you, this is your show, yours and Kurt's. I'm just along for the ride. If you don't want this, then I don't, either."

The hope that Dave couldn't help feeling was quickly replaced with guilt. Did Puck really mean that, or was it just another case of thinking his wants and needs didn't really matter? "You get to have what you want, too," he said. "You _should_ be trying to get it."

"Uh, dude. I _am._" Puck nudged Dave's hand with his knuckles. "You haven't noticed? I've got _you._ We totally sang that song. And, uh, the other one. You know, love you 'till the end of time and all that shit." He looked away, his cheeks pink. "Yeah, I want you to be happy, and I'm pretty much going to do anything I can to help you get what you want. _That's_ what I want." He shrugged. "I'm just pissed at myself for getting it wrong."

"Babe." Dave swallowed. "If you really mean that... then you didn't get it wrong, did you? I'm not upset about anything that happened here. I'm just scared of what it means. Because of that... love you 'till the end of time shit, you know? I don't want...this, to take that away from us."

Puck's eyes softened. "You told me that wasn't going to happen. So it won't. I trust you, man. You and me, we could do anything with anybody, and it wouldn't change one fucking thing about _us._ Kurt, he's awesome. Whatever you guys decide, that's cool with me. But I'm in this for _you._" He clasped Dave's hand suddenly, hard. "Okay? ... Please?"

Dave knew it wasn't that simple, but he wanted to believe it. Even more than that, he loved Puck for believing it, and if there was anything he could do to keep it that way, keep him trusting Dave and knowing everything would be okay - he would. "Yes," he said. "Okay."

"Okay." Puck let out a breath, and his shoulders settled. "But now - there's Kurt. I think I fucked things up with him and Vincent, and that sucks." He frowned. "You think we should stop? What we're doing?"

"No. I mean, maybe. An hour ago, I thought so. But it's great, isn't it?" Dave smiled a little. "And I think the damage is already done, so maybe we should just let it be what it is."

Puck nodded, dropping the pulverized chip. "Okay. Did Vincent call yet today? I think I need to talk to him this time. Try to fix some of the broken things. And, uh." He grinned. "I think we should all actually leave the room for a meal today. Maybe go to dinner, before the poker tournament tonight?"

"Oh, right, the poker tournament." Dave had almost forgotten about that. It seemed like a plan from a different world, a long time ago. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Yeah, the reason why we came on this cruise? Or one of them, anyway." Puck snorted a laugh, shaking his head. "Actually... I had two goals, right? One was to beat everybody's ass at poker, and the other... was to get Kurt laid." His laughter escalated, and he smothered it in one hand. "Guess I managed to take care of both of them, huh?"

Dave couldn't help but grin. He reached across the table and took Puck's hand. "I think I'd better get you back down to our cabin before you can make any more plans."

* * *

Dave came out of the bathroom, still damp from the shower. On the way over to find his clothes, he was met by Puck - only Puck. That generally wouldn't be a problem at all. It should be great. Now, though, Dave pulled away from Puck's kiss. "Where's Kurt?" he asked.

"He went to get some drinks or something." Puck seemed unconcerned, so Dave tried to kiss him back like he would have, before. After all, nothing had changed. They'd agreed that it wouldn't. How would Kurt feel, though, about Dave and Puck here without him? It wasn't like that wouldn't happen all the time, it had to, it was stupid to worry about it, but... he couldn't focus on what he was doing, and of course, as always, Puck could tell.

"Babe, what is it?" he asked, and his tone made Dave feel guilty all over again, about Puck this time, and... would he ever do anything again without feeling that sting of guilt?

He sighed. "Just feeling bad about Kurt," he said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't make you worry about this."

"You're not making me do anything, dude. I'm here to listen." He kissed Dave right by his ear and relaxed into his arms. "Tell me."

"I don't know. Just... it must be hard on him. I don't want him to feel left out."

As he said it, the door opened, and Kurt walked in, carrying three bottles of water.

"Hey," Dave said, knowing there must be a guilty look on his face, but unable to hide it. "We, uh, we were just talking about you."

"Yes, and I think maybe the two of you have some things to talk about." Puck pushed past Kurt towards the door. "I'll just...go hang out by the pool. You can find me there later, if you want."

"No -" Dave should probably say he didn't have to leave, that he should stay, that this was about all of them, but he didn't know if he could have this conversation with both of them there. And Puck was right: they should have it. "Okay. Yeah. We'll be there in a little while."

The five seconds it took for Puck to put his shoes on and the door to close behind him seemed to stretch out forever. Finally Kurt looked up and broke the silence. "So... we need to talk?"

Dave sighed and sank down on the edge of the bed. "Was it really always like this?"

Kurt's lips twitched. He opened a bottle of water and fiddled with the cap. "Well, I don't know about you, David, but I'm pretty sure we weren't _always_ doing the things we've done this week together. Maybe in my imagination." His mouth was smiling, but there was concern in his eyes. "Seriously. What do you mean, really always like this?"

"Like...was I doing this to you, all along? Were you - I don't know." Dave shook his head unhappily. "I'm just so sorry, for not giving you what you deserve, and...now I feel like an asshole for not noticing how bad it was before."

Kurt moved to sit close beside him, their legs touching. It felt good, not uncomfortable in any way, but it wasn't distracting in quite the same way that Puck's leg would have been. Dave felt guilty about that, too.

"David," he said, shaking his head, "no, it's not like that. This relationship - I mean, our friendship -" Kurt paused, gazing at him. "It's always been more than _that._ We've been more than friends to each other for years, long before we said anything about it. You knew it; I knew it. And now..."

Dave nodded. "So the answer is yes. I'm not just hurting you now, I've been doing it for years."

Kurt laid a hand on his leg. "Don't try to out-drama-queen me, David. You'll never win. Do you remember why we started calling one another once a week?"

Dave had to smile a little. "Not really. Something to do with how I'd listen to all your drama queen stories?"

"Something like that," Kurt agreed, smiling back. "It was because of my most recent failed attempt to find someone to date that wasn't a jerk, or a predator, or completely boring. I'd signed up for a horrible spinning class with this guy - god, I can't even remember his name, now - and my calves just couldn't take it, so I had to find something to do with that time. I'd go and sit in the coffee shop and feel like a complete idiot. And one day, I was looking in my phone, and... there you were. So I called you."

"And I was a complete idiot too, so it worked out." Dave remembered that call. He didn't think it was an exaggeration.

"Yes." Kurt leaned in a little, his head on Dave's chest, and it was the easiest thing in the world for Dave to put his arm around him and hold him close. "I still don't know why you didn't hang up on me. Or a hundred times after that. I certainly wasn't scintillating company all the time. But the fact was, I was lonely, and you... I missed you. I wanted... to be close with you. That never changed."

"I didn't get why you wanted to talk to me at all," Dave said. "But it was nice."

"Nice. Yes." Kurt huddled in closer, and Dave held him tighter, without even thinking about it. "David, _that_ was the hard part. It was like - I could only get so close, but there was this invisible line we'd drawn long ago, and I wasn't allowed to cross it. I didn't want _nice._ I wanted _this."_ He put a hand on Dave's chest, over his heart. "This... it's not about sex. It's about being able to tell you how I feel, about you. To show you." He laughed, digging his head deeper into the crook of Dave's arm. "That... that's all I really wanted."

"Really?" Dave pulled away a little to look at him. "You think - that can be enough?"

In Dave's dreams, Kurt's eyes were this deep, perfect blue. In reality, they had a lot more green than Dave had expected, and there were little flecks of grey around the pupils. He tried to focus on Kurt's words. "I won't lie." He smiled. "The sex is really incredible. But... David, we're grown-ups now, or as close to being ones as we're ever going to get. We have jobs, whole lives apart from each other. We're going to have to be realistic about this." His hand cupped Dave's neck. "I love you. Now, as much as I ever have. I don't think that's ever going to change. And yes, I'll miss you when I go home. But I always did. Now, it just feels... more honest. And I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"Honest. Yeah." Dave leaned closer again, until their foreheads were touching. "That's something. But - if you ever think... it's too much, or you need some distance, or it's not worth it... we'll be honest about that too, right?"

Kurt's breath caught, and when he pulled Dave into a kiss, Dave could taste his tears. "I promise," he whispered. He slid his arms around Dave's middle and held on, like he thought Dave might disappear, and began to cry.

"I still need you," Kurt managed, between sobs. "I don't want what we have to go away."

Dave tried to wrap as much of him as possible in his arms, and held on tight. "I'm here," he said, squeezing a little to prove it. "Not going away."


	8. Chapter 8

After that first night together in Dave and Puck's room, there had been very little awkwardness between the three of them, but coming out for dinner was a whole other matter entirely. Dave and Puck got dressed, Dave in his khakis and button-down and Puck in his suit, and met Kurt in the hallway. They all hesitated at the same moment.

"Ready for dinner?" Kurt said.

"If by that do you mean am I ready to walk up to the banquet hall and pretend I didn't just spent the last two days fucking both of you," Puck replied, with a little glare at Kurt, "the answer is hell, no. We are three badasses, and we're not going to stop enjoying the shit out of this cruise, for as long as we've got." He grasped Dave's hand with his left, and Kurt's with his right, and set out at a determined pace for the elevator. "Come on."

"He sure has a way with words, doesn't he, David?" Kurt murmured behind his back.

But even fortified with Puck's confidence, they sat at their table and ate mostly in silence, because it wasn't at all clear how they should be together. When their companions, two couples and a single guy, asked if they'd gone on the white-water excursion that afternoon, Dave could almost see the thoughts scroll out of Puck's brain like ticker tape: _No, I was busy getting head from this guy over here while this other guy watched._ He willed him not to say anything, and for once, it seemed to have worked, because Puck just shook his head and asked, "How were the rapids?"

Kurt sat beside Dave, smiling blandly at the men across from them. Halfway through dinner, Kurt reached out under the table and put a hand on his knee. Dave took his hand and interlaced their fingers, and they sat there for several minutes, Dave trying not to let the stupid smile take over his face while attempting to negotiate holding a fork with his left hand. It was harder than he'd expected. Eventually Kurt noticed him struggling and let his hand go with an apologetic grimace. Dave wanted to say _no, it's fine,_ but he was actually glad to get his hand back, so he just settled for smiling at him.

After the waiters cleared the table following the dessert course, Puck stretched, his arms behind his head, looking every bit the cocky playboy. "Time to fulfill number one of my two goals for this trip. I'm off to the poker tournament."

"What was number two?" asked the single guy. Puck smirked at him, and Dave pushed out his chair in a hurry.

"I'll see you there," he said to Puck. "Kurt, you coming?"

"I wouldn't miss it," Kurt assured him. "I just have to go get changed."

Dave didn't bother to point out that Kurt already had clothes on, and Dave knew they were clean because an hour ago, Kurt hadn't been wearing any clothes at all. Kurt had his own standards about fashion that Dave would never understand, but Dave knew there was no way he was going to let Puck be the best-dressed guy in the casino.

Puck had his determined face on again. Dave knew what that meant, but he knew better than to ask if he was worried, because Puck would never admit it.

"You're going to need me, or Kurt," he said. Puck nodded.

"Either one would be fine. I think I've got a good handle on the system they use for guarding against card counting." He paused by the elevator, looking at Dave. "Whatever happens, it's fine. It's just a game, right?"

"I know," said Dave. But that wasn't really it at all, and as he watched Puck standing there, waiting for the elevator, he wondered if Puck knew it.

The casino was crowded with other men waiting to participate in the tournament. All the tables were set up for Texas Hold 'Em tonight. There were probably more casual players than there would have been at a scheduled poker game in Columbus, which Dave guessed meant Puck would be playing loose. Guys would be throwing money into every hand. If Puck could read their tells right, he could likely clean up.

Texas Hold'Em was a straightforward game. Dave could play it, even win sometimes, without knowing a ton about strategy. He cashed in money for chips, enough to last him for the first hour, at least. Puck probably wouldn't need him after that. He might stay and watch anyway, though, because as much as he complained about Puck counting cards, it was always a pleasure to see Puck's particular brand of mathematical intellect at work.

The dealer at Dave's table was handsome in a bland way, and he was being more friendly than was typical. This wasn't a cutthroat tournament - not for most of the participants, anyway. Puck was smiling and laughing with the guys at his table, but Dave knew better. Puck didn't do casual poker.

_It's not just a game,_ he thought, watching Puck receive his two hole cards for the first hand, seated at the table across the room._ It never has been just a game for you, any more than the things we've done on this cruise have been a game for me._

The man next to him, a petite guy with nice shoulders, smiled at Dave and nodded at Puck's table. "That's your boyfriend, right?"

"Yeah," Dave said. "He's the real poker player. I'm just slumming."

The man nodded, peeking at his hole cards and grimacing. "I'm not so good myself. Seems like I end up with bad cards most of the time. That's just luck." He shrugged and tossed his chips in for the first round of betting. "Better to lose than not to play at all, though. It's still fun."

Dave wasn't always sure he agreed with that statement. Sometimes he thought it would be better not to play. His hole cards were a pair of sixes, though, so that was a good start.

"Charles," said the man, holding out his hand. Dave shook it.

"Dave," he replied. "Good luck."

When Kurt showed up, he stopped beside Dave's table, close enough to slide an arm around his waist - not really a hug, but more than a casual greeting. Dave tried to ignore the look he got from Charles and focus on Kurt. It wasn't too hard.

"Damn," he murmured. "You really are the best dressed guy here."

Kurt gave him an appreciative smile, his cheeks flushing. "Did you doubt I would be? And this time, you can compliment my shoes all you like, and it'll be warranted."

"I'll consider it. You have enough money to get some chips?"

"I came prepared," Kurt said, waving a handful of bills.

Dave followed Kurt's gaze across the room toward Puck, who was still in the Social Butterfly stage of his strategy. "He's fine," Dave assured him in a low tone. "He doesn't need us yet. Either you're going to have to take that free seat next to him, though, or one of us will have to plan to win this round so we end up at his table next."

Kurt nodded, brushing his hair back with a thoughtful frown. "It'll have to be the former, then. You know I barely know enough about this game to place a reasonable bet. I can't guarantee I won't be out of money by the time the first couple hands are up. Remind me, after they put those two cards down for you, what happens next?"

"Your hole cards, sure." Dave gestured to his two face-down cards. "You have to combine those with the five community cards to make your best five-card poker hand. You get your hole cards. Then the flop is dealt; that's three cards, then one more card is dealt for the turn, and another for the river. There's a bet every time people get cards. Each time you can call, raise or fold, or check if no one else has bet yet. Then everybody turns over their cards and whoever has the best hand, with your hole cards and the community cards, wins."

"Okay." Kurt put on a brave face. "Any advice?"

Dave thought about the hours Puck had put into trying to explain his strategy to Dave, and the many more hours Puck had spent practicing it, with their friends and at the local poker game he played on Sunday afternoons. "Um. If you're torn between raising or folding, calling is not a good compromise. Don't bet on an ace or king in your hole cards unless you're to the left of the dealer. You could probably bluff you have a king/pair, though, since you're a good actor. I have to rely on people thinking I'm the strong silent type."

Kurt grimaced. "I think we might just have to consider my participation here equivalent to a donation to charity."

"Sure," Dave said easily, patting Kurt on the back. "Charity. The Noah Puckerman Honorary Fund for Complete Suckers. Try to look like you're having fun, anyway."

"Oh, trust me, David," said Kurt, with an entirely inappropriate leer. "I'm planning on _actually_ having fun. See you soon." He leaned in, whispering, "Maybe you'll let me buy you a drink later."

"I'll consider that, too," Dave whispered back. He watched Kurt walk across the room. Dave guessed Kurt still wore the same size pants as he had back in junior year at McKinley, and although he thought this was totally unfair, he really couldn't complain.

Kurt had barely made it to Puck's table before Charles was tapping him on the arm. "I thought you said _that other _guy was your boyfriend," he said, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead.

Dave considered giving the _just friends_ excuse, but really, he knew there was no way it would come off as authentic, not right now. He also considered brushing Charles off, saying _hey, since when is it any of your business?_ But that would just be rude - not to mention putting a serious damper on the first and possibly only round of poker Dave would be playing tonight. And, really, how likely was it that he was ever going to see Charles again?

"He is," said Dave, hearing the words come out of his mouth, hardly believing he was saying them. "I mean, we're kind of all here together."

"Oh." Charles looked surprised, but not shocked. "Crazy. How does that work, anyway?"

Now Dave wished he'd picked one of the first two options, because he had absolutely no freaking _idea_ how it worked. After they returned to Miami in two days and he and Puck got on the plane to fly back to Columbus, he was pretty sure he'd have even less of an idea. But he didn't think a poker tournament was really the place to have a conversation like that with a guy he'd never met before, so he just shrugged and said, "We figure it out."

But Charles apparently wasn't quite ready to let it go. Once Dave called the bet after the flop had been dealt, he said, "I just don't get how that could work - I mean, yeah, the sex part, but - three of you, together? Don't you get jealous? I mean, somebody's got to win and somebody's got to lose. It seems impossible."

Dave thought about the three of them at dinner, how awkward that had been. Charles might be right, but here he was anyway, and there were other things he could focus on. The conversations he'd had with both Puck and Kurt over the last few days, how thoughtful and honest they'd both been, how they'd thrown themselves into treacherous waters of sex, without really stopping to wonder whether or not it was possible. Just being in the moment, wanting it, and handling it all with fearless abandon. There had been hard moments, and reasons to say _I can't,_ but he hadn't, purely because of _who_ he was doing it all with. Dave trusted them both.

He shook his head, smiling faintly. "I don't think that has to be true," he said. "It's not impossible. Complicated and confusing, but not impossible."

Dave ended up winning that hand, but even as he raked in the small pile of chips, he could feel the guilt begin to creep over him. Because he'd already said _I can't, I don't want this. _He'd said it to both of them. And yet, here he was, pretending the three of them were something they weren't. That didn't seem right, no matter how much of a stranger Charles was.

"It's – just for this trip," he finally said, as the dealer placed two new cards face down in front of him. Charles looked confused, and Dave ventured to explain further. "When we go home. It'll just me and my boyfriend again. And Kurt –" He gestured toward the other table. "—he's going home to – um. California." He didn't need to mention Vincent, did he? God, this _was_ confusing.

"Huh." Charles peeked at his new set of hole cards. He had a terrible poker face. "I've never been good at long distance relationships."

Dave thought about Kurt, these past six years, their weekly phone calls, how much he looked forward to them. Kurt could make him laugh like nobody else. He knew Dave's history, and he still wanted to be his friend. That meant a hell of a lot to him. He hoped Kurt knew that.

"We're… pretty good at it," Dave said. "I mean, we've lived in different states for a long time, and it hasn't changed how we feel about each other."

Charles nodded. Then he made a face. "Still. Seems like a lot of work. Is it worth it?"

Dave swallowed. His hole cards were a three and a five. Definitely time to fold. "I hope so," he said, tossing them into the center. He'd only lost his ante_. No big deal. Better to play it safe and end it now._

The next hand they played in silence. But then Charles turned to him, hesitating.

"I'm, uh." He rubbed his forehead, then said, "I'm married. To, uh, a woman."

Dave stared at him. He couldn't help glancing at Charles' left hand, seeing a faint indentation on his empty finger. "But you're…"

"Yeah," Charles said. He sighed ruefully, tapping his cards. "I've been going on these cruises for four years now, ever since I came out to my wife."

"Oh," said Dave. That sounded awful to him, but he didn't want to say that to Charles. "Is it – do you enjoy that? I mean… does it work for you?" He winced, hearing his words spoken aloud and wondering how Charles might take them, but Charles didn't seem hurt.

"Depends on the week," he said. He tossed his chips into the center for the final bet, and smiled big as he revealed a king and a four, matching the two other fours in the community cards. "Sometimes I get lucky." He neatly stacked his winnings in front of him. "And then I go home to my wife, and everything's kind of normal and quiet for a few weeks, until I start to feel like I'm missing something again."

Dave felt a sudden rush of unhappy awareness of what it was going to feel like to be in Columbus with Puck, and without Kurt. It was mixed with guilt, because in truth, he was already missing the easy, familiar dynamic of life at home with Puck. How could he miss what he used to have, yet still be enjoying what he had right now? It didn't seem possible, sure as hell wasn't fair to Kurt. He sighed.

Charles nudged his arm. "I just told you that because I wanted you to know you weren't the only one dealing with some strange stuff. Believe me, more than half of the guys on this boat have secrets they aren't telling about their lives. I've slept with a bunch of them, and they _always_ have the weirdest fucking pillow talk."

That made Dave laugh. "Yeah, okay. I won't feel so alone now."

The rest of the hands concluded, surprisingly, with Dave and Charles as the winners for their table. "You guys can park yourselves over there," said the dealer, indicating the empty tables across the room. "As soon as the other tables have their winners, they'll join you and you'll play the next round."

Charles gave him a pointed look when both Kurt and Puck ended up pulling up stools at their table. "We've got ourselves a whole _bunch_ of winners, huh?"

Dave shook his head, grinning. "Charles, this is Puck, and that's Kurt. We all went to high school together."

"Really." Charles grinned back, riffling through his stack of chips. "That must have been some interesting high school experience." He held out a hand for each of them to shake. "I guess I don't need to ask if _you're_ enjoying your cruise."

"Dave?" Kurt hissed, looking positively shocked. Dave wasn't even sure what to say in return, how to explain his reasoning for telling Charles, but Puck shrugged noncommittally.

"Come on. What's the harm? I mean, dude, whatever happens with us in two days, there's no doubt what's going on _now."_ He stared at Dave in apparent challenge, but Dave could see the fear there, just under the surface. "Right?"

"That's what I figured," Dave said, as mildly as he could, and Puck relaxed a little. He flexed his hands, perching on his stool.

"All right, then," said Puck. "Let's play a little poker."

But instead of sinking into his usual state of calm concentration, Puck just seemed to grow more edgy as the round went on. A loud guy in a red shirt with an obnoxious laugh kept winning hand after hand. Dave lost track of Puck's signals, and it wasn't as though he could actually stop the game to ask him what was happening, so he just pressed on, playing as best as he knew how. Even when he won a couple hands himself, Puck didn't lose his twitch.

Kurt bit his lip, watching Dave across the table, and Dave just wanted to tell Kurt to _cut it out already_, that he was going to draw attention to himself. But of course he couldn't do that either. He wasn't sure if he was more upset by the idea of somebody noticing Kurt watching, or by Puck's distress.

Finally the round drew to a close with the loud guy and Puck in the lead. Puck didn't even wait for the dealer to collect the cards; he just pushed his stool out and stormed away from the table. Kurt stared after him, looking exasperated.

"The hell?" he muttered to Dave, cashing in his small pile of remaining chips. "What's going on, David?"

"I don't know. Let me go find out, and I'll meet you back at the room, okay?" He gave Charles what he hoped was a friendly wave, but he really didn't have any energy to waste on him. Puck did throw very pretty tantrums, but Dave wasn't going to stop to explain this to Kurt, either.

He found Puck pacing back and forth outside on the foredeck, his hands locked behind his neck, muttering to himself. Dave leaned against the railing and waited for him to approach, then put out a hand, slowing his increasingly frantic movements. "Hey – babe. It's okay."

"God dammit, Dave, it's not fucking _okay."_ Puck tossed off his hand, giving him a brief, wounded glare. "Nobody was following through. You and Kurt, you could have been off in another _universe_ for all that I could tell."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I wasn't reading you right." He tried to speak quietly, but Puck wasn't responding to calm. The next time he passed him, Dave took his arm in a firm grasp. "Stop. Look at me."

Puck stopped, still restless, and wouldn't meet Dave's eyes. "I couldn't get the rhythm… lost track, and that asshole in the red shirt was just pissing me off…"

"Yeah, he was annoying. It's okay. You still got the next round, right?" He watched Puck grit his teeth. "Right?"

Puck shook his head in frustration. "You don't get it. It's about being able to read people as much as cards… about the perception of how a hand is going as much as the actual reality."

"You're getting way too worked up. Whatever happened to this being just a game?"

"This isn't about the fucking _poker game!"_ Puck shouted. Dave took his other arm and held it, letting Puck struggle for a couple seconds before wrapping him up tight.

"Okay. I got it now." He spoke right into his ear, feeling Puck shaking. "It's not about the game."

"I fucked up, Dave," Puck whispered after a minute. "I can't figure this out. I can't make it better."

Dave wished he had an answer for that, but hell, he'd asked for honesty, and he'd better give it himself. "I don't think any of us can. You're not any more at fault for that than I am, or Kurt."

Puck's eyes were red and wet when he pulled away to look at Dave. "You know I'd do anything for you."

"I know," Dave murmured, brushing tears off Puck's cheek. "You don't have to figure this out on your own. We can do it together, okay? You, and me. And Kurt, too."

Puck made a tiny nod. "So… what are we going to do now?"

It was a reasonable question. Dave still wasn't sure he had a reasonable answer, but he gave it a shot. "We can't have this, not the way it is here with Kurt. And we can't go back to the way it was, because… now the feelings are out there, and we can't really put them back, right?"

"No." He wiped his eyes on his hand. "I don't think I'd want to, anyway."

Dave refused to give in to the ugly voices that nagged at him, even now, the ones that said _he's telling you he's not going to be happy with just you anymore._ "Okay. So we – we go home, and we talk, all of us. We're not going to forget about Vincent, either. And time passes, right?"

Puck grinned, reluctantly. "You're asking me, prof? Who's the math guy?"

"Shut up," Dave said, grinning back. He felt something relax inside him at Puck's grin, and he hugged him again. "I love you."

Puck hugged him back, this time, briefly burying his face in Dave's shoulder. "Till the end of time and all that shit?"

Dave swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "If that's what you want, yeah."

"I want," Puck said. He clutched Dave's neck, pulling him closer. "Fuck, Dave… I want."

* * *

At first, Dave wasn't sure if Puck's voice was part of his dream or not. It might have been, at first, but now he was pretty certain he was awake.

"Can you imagine all of us living together, someday?" he was asking, "Like, in a big house by the sea with all our kids and cats and everything?"

Maybe Dave was dreaming, anyway. He kind of hoped he was. He kept his eyes closed. Puck couldn't be talking to him.

"I'm not sure about the cats," Kurt answered, sleepily. "But I guess that would be nice. And we'd get a really big bed." There was a short pause, and the sound of somebody moving around on the sheets. "Yes, Puck, that was a hint. Move over, I'm falling out here."

This time, Dave could actually feel the mattress moving. Pretending to be asleep was getting harder, and less believable, but he didn't really want to take part in this conversation yet.

"Better?" Puck said. "Anyway, I don't know if that would be any good in real life. Maybe it's just one of those big ideas Dave says I always want to talk about in the middle of the night." He sighed. "It's morning now, though, right? I can't see my watch."

Dave hid his smile in the pillow. He loved those conversations, when Puck would wake up at god knows when with a burning philosophical question. Even if he sometimes wondered if they couldn't happen in the daytime.

"Seven thirty," he heard Kurt answer. "And...I'm not sure if that's a lifestyle I want, either? I certainly never thought I did. But then, I once thought I was going to be on Broadway and married to my highschool boyfriend by now, so who knows?"

"Yeah." Puck laughed. "I don't know if I thought I'd ever live with even one guy."

Dave decided it wasn't fair to listen to them talk about him without them knowing. "Morning," he mumbled. "Talking about me?"

Puck turned his head to look at him. "What other guy am I living with, babe?"

"Yeah, true," Dave said, "lucky me." Then he closed his eyes again. They had been up late last night, and he thought he should get to sleep until eight, at least, when he was on vacation. But this was nice, really, just relaxing and listening to their voices. He might be a little worried about what they were saying, but... it was just thoughts. It would be fine.

Dave felt Puck leaning over him and kissing his forehead. "I think I'm the lucky one," he whispered. Dave just smiled, and Puck turned his attention back to Kurt.

"I suppose you would understand," he said. "I mean, how lucky I am to be with him."

"Yes," Kurt answered, and Dave didn't think he sounded bitter, or jealous. "I understand. He's a pretty great boyfriend, isn't he? For you, I mean. I hate to say it, because I've been in love with him forever, and I used to have all these fantasies, but...I'm not sure it would work, being a couple like that? We're not in highschool anymore." He sighed. "I don't know why I'm saying that, because it's not like it would have been _less_ of a disaster back then. I guess I'm just more realistic, now."

He felt Puck stretch the muscles in his legs, adjusting so he lay closer against Dave on the bed. Really, it wasn't built for three. "Realistic?"

"Jobs. School. There's...so many different things we want to do, and I'm not sure they go together. I wouldn't want my ambitions to get in the way of his, you know? I guess in my old daydreams, he was never a professor." Kurt laughed. "Doctor Karofsky, professor of mathematics. Could you have imagined that five years ago?"

"No way. But I couldn't have imagined any of this, five years ago, so...it's just one more thing. Pretty awesome, though."

"Yes," Kurt said, and Dave was pretty sure he was blushing, but he kept quiet. They knew he was there, awake...and maybe that affected what they were saying about him, but it didn't sound like they were censoring themselves.

"Anyway," Puck continued, "I just want him to be happy, you know? So if that means being with you... not that I don't want to be with you, you're hot and everything..."

"Oh, thank you." Kurt sounded amused.

"Yeah, you're welcome. The point is, it's about Dave, for me. When he's happy... I'm happy, too."

"So you don't mind...sharing him, with me?" Kurt's voice was a little uncertain. "I figured if you said it was okay, I would just enjoy it and not worry. But you're my friend, too. I'd hate to ruin something really good for you."

"I think that would be my fault," Puck said. _Of course, _Dave thought. _Still feeling guilty._ "No, I totally don't mind sharing him with _you._ But... dude, I feel like I made some kind of huge mistake. Dave says it's okay, but... I don't know. And there's Vincent, too. I'm sorry if I made things hard for you, I just... wanted you guys to have what you want. What you need."

"I think you're what he needs." Kurt shifted toward Puck on the bed. "I can't say I'm nearly as selfless as you are. I won't say no to getting what I can get, but - you make him really happy. I didn't get it, at first, when he told me, but it was obvious he was crazy about you, and...I definitely see it now. You guys are great together. And I wanted to have something like that, you know? I was sure it was going to be with Vincent - and maybe it still is. The point is, of course I want to be a part of it. But I want to find a way that makes sense for all of us."

"Yeah. I didn't really think that part through," Puck admitted. "I just figured, well, he wanted you, and you wanted him, and you were lonely... so of course this was the answer." He snorted. "I guess it's not too late for it to work out."

"No, it's not. And, believe me, Puck, I'm enjoying it." The mattress moved again, and Dave considered just getting up - he was getting hungry, anyway - but he didn't want to interrupt this yet. "And it seemed like you two have been, too, but I know it's a little more complicated than that."

"I guess it is," Puck replied. "I think we're okay, though. Me and Dave. And you? But... you're still worried about Vincent?"

"Of course." Kurt sighed. "He's being so great about this, but I can tell it's hard on him, and... I was so sure we had something really special, even if he left, and now I don't even know what I feel. I hate that."

"You're not going to convince me you're not crazy in love with him," Dave heard Puck say. "This doesn't change that." Dave had heard that phrase a lot the last few days. _This doesn't change anything. _He still wasn't sure if it was true or not.

"I'm... I have no idea anymore." Kurt laughed, but he sounded on the edge of getting a little hysterical. "All those feelings... I remember them, but it seems like it was ages ago. Not a week. Or months, I guess, since I saw him, but..."

In contrast, Puck was calm and certain. "Hey, I've heard you talking about him," he said. "You sound like I did back when Dave and I got together. Except, you know, with a little more drama, but that's nothing new."

"Are you calling me a drama queen?"

"Are you saying you're not?"

Based on the amount of noise and movement, a pillow fight might be breaking out at any moment, so Dave decided he might as well open his eyes and watch. It was a nice sight - amazing, actually. Two hot, naked guys in his bed, poking each other and laughing, was hard to believe to begin with, but there was Puck's bright smile, and Kurt with his hair messed up from sleeping... Dave really was ridiculously lucky.

"When you guys are done, can we get breakfast?" he rumbled. "I'm starving."

Puck reacted instantly, rolling over and kissing him. "We were just waiting for you, sleepyhead," he said, and when Kurt pushed him away, claiming it was his turn, it was hard for Dave to hold on to a single worry. He kissed Kurt, then Puck again.

"See, no need to fight, there's enough for everyone," Puck said, smiling, and after a moment's hesitation, he turned and gave Kurt a quick kiss, too. Kurt looked a bit surprised, but he returned the smile.

"Yes, okay," he said. "Let's see if you remember that when we get to the pancakes, hmm?"

"Dude, there can never be enough pancakes," Puck replied, climbing over Kurt to get out of the bed. "Come on, let's go find some."

Dave rolled off on the other side. "We're on a cruise ship," he pointed out. "I'm sure they won't run out of breakfast."

"Do you want to take that chance?" Puck pulled on a pair of shorts.

Kurt, still sitting on the bed, watched them with an amused look on his face. "Do you really think I'm going anywhere without a shower and my own hair products? Give me ten minutes."

The old Kurt would have asked for an hour, so they both nodded, and Kurt headed back to his own cabin. Personally, Dave would have put on some pants before he went into the hallway, but Kurt's was right next door, so he let it pass without comment. "Knock when you're ready," he called after him.

Puck was still standing there, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that he hadn't even finished buttoning. It was a small room, so Dave only had to take two steps to have him pressed up against the nearest wall. The wall to Kurt's cabin, he thought, wondering for a moment if he should be feeling bad about that. Right now, though - things were so _good_. He could worry about it later. And he couldn't - wouldn't - give up on doing things with just Puck, without feeling guilty, or what would he do when they got home?

He kissed Puck hard, until they were both a little breathless. "Babe, you're unbelievable," he said. "I don't know how I get to have you, but... god, I love that I do."

"And Kurt," Puck felt the need to interject. "You still get to have him."

Dave leaned into Puck's chest, pinning him with his weight. "And that's great," he said. "But you make me happy, too, okay? I love him, and he's my best friend, but...I still need you. I need you to be my boyfriend, and wake up with me in the mornings and...make pancakes with me and feed the cats. Not to feed them pancakes. You know." He kissed the corner of Puck's mouth, feeling a little silly, and like he'd said too much and maybe been unfair to Kurt, but he thought it was all true. Like they kept saying... none of that had changed.

"I know," Puck said, a little unsteadily. "And I will. It's just that I get to go home with you, and Kurt doesn't, and I don't know what happens after that, so...I just want you to enjoy - uh, eating pancakes with him, while you can."

Dave nodded and pushed away from the wall. "Okay. Yeah. I can do that."

Puck, glassy-eyed, fastened up his shorts in silence. He still didn't have any words for Dave until he'd pulled on a tank top and slipped his feet into his sandals. But on the way out the door, he gripped Dave's arm.

"You really need that with me?" he said, sounding urgent, gazing up at Dave through lowered lids. "You're really sure?"

"Yeah," Dave said. He cocked his head. "You still don't believe that?"

Puck let go of Dave's arm, steadying himself with a deep breath. "It's not that," he said. "It's just - if you're sure, it's a hell of a lot easier for me to be sure, too."

Dave kissed him firmly. "Yes. I'm really sure." If there was anything he was sure about, it was that.


	9. Chapter 9

Their cabin already felt different when Dave woke up on the last day. One of the toothbrushes was gone from beside their sink, and there were still clean towels on the shelf above the toilet. Kurt typically used them all up before he could get into the shower, and Dave would have to reclaim one of the damp ones he'd used on his hair. Not this morning, though. This morning Kurt was absent, along with his toothbrush, and Dave's towel was dry and folded. There was no robe hanging on the hook on the back of the door.

Puck lay quiet beside Dave in the bed. There was plenty of room between them. Dave rolled over to close the space.

"Going home today," he said, and kissed him on the forehead.

Puck didn't open his eyes, but he sighed a little, leaning into the contact. "Yeah."

"It'll be good to get back to work," Dave tried.

Puck nodded, still keeping his eyes closed. "Last morning for unlimited free pancakes, though."

"I'll make you pancakes, babe. As many as you want." He waited for Puck to stir, and when he didn't, he gathered him up in his arms and held him close. "Things are going to be okay."

"Vincent sounded kind of funny on the phone yesterday," he murmured against the skin of Dave's neck. "I guess it could have been that it was 2 AM when we called, but... I don't know. I know there's nothing I can do now, except tell him sorry, again, and listen to him say it's okay, and not really mean it. Again."

Dave knew what he meant, and he could have wallowed in the same self-pity and angst that Puck had found himself in this morning. But somehow, when Puck was sad like this, it made it possible for him to be stronger than he would have been if Puck didn't need him so much. "They're going to have to work that out themselves. Their relationship is up to them; it's not about us."

Puck rubbed his forehead, grimacing. "Okay, man, but... I just don't know if I can really wait for eight more months to find out if Kurt's gonna have a boyfriend or not. That _sucks."_

"Yeah. I know. But, Puck, regardless of what happened, Kurt was going to have to go home at the end of this vacation. He'll wait, and Vincent will come home eventually, and they'll figure it out."

"Sure." Puck pulled back far enough to look into Dave's eyes, still troubled. "You think he'll let Kurt come visit anymore?"

Dave had no idea, but he smiled. "Sure. He still has family in Ohio. He couldn't tell Kurt not to come home, or visit his friends, right?"

"That's what you want, huh? To go back to being _friends?"_ Puck stared at him, waiting, while Dave said nothing. "Yeah, I didn't think so." He sighed. "I guess we've got a while before he has to deal with that, anyway."

Dave nodded, looking away. "We'd better get packed and see if Kurt wants some breakfast before the ship reaches port."

But Kurt came to their room before they were done packing. He handed the extra room key to Dave with a little half-smile. "Thanks."

_For what?_ Dave wanted to ask. _For the vacation? For enduring karaoke and dancing? For kissing you in the hot tub, or everything that came after that?_ He wasn't sure how to fit all of that into one sentence, though, so he stood there, holding the key in his hand. It felt warm.

"You're welcome," he said.

Puck gave Kurt a hug without asking for it, or even looking awkward, which Dave thought was pretty impressive. "Your flight won't land until after ours does," he said. "Call when you get home, okay?"

"All right," Kurt agreed. Dave watched him reach up and touch Puck's face, a gesture of intimacy that made Dave's gut clench. Then he glanced over at Dave, reaching for him with his eyes, if not his hands, and Dave obliged by moving closer to both of them. He sighed.

"I don't really know how it's going to be," Kurt said quietly. "At home. I just... I don't know."

Puck looked at Dave, too. His expression was uneasy. If Dave had been alone with Puck, it would have been easy to hold him, to give him the contact he needed to feel secure. But now, with Kurt there, somehow, it felt complicated. Dave settled with putting on a hand on his arm, stroking his skin with his thumb.

"What do you want from us?" Puck asked. Kurt gazed fixedly at the hem of Puck's tank top.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I... can't. I think I'm just going to have to see how it is."

"I got that, man." He put a hand on Kurt's chest. "If there's anything we can do, though, to make it easier... it's okay. Me, or Dave, or whatever you need."

"Thanks." Kurt took a long, slow breath, and curled into Dave's chest. Dave didn't question Kurt's need to be held; he just did it. But he couldn't help but wonder if this might be the last time they would ever do this. _The next time I see him, will it be like it is now, here on the ship? Like we've never been apart? Or will it be back to the way things were before? Or maybe it'll be something entirely different?_ He tried to quiet his anxious thoughts in the feel of Kurt against his chest, the presence of Puck under Kurt's carefully placed hand.

"I love you," Kurt murmured. He listened to Puck's quiet sigh, and Dave only hesitated for a moment before he responded.

"I love you, too." Dave ran his hand through Kurt's soft hair, trying not to feel that same sense of _this might be the last time I do this,_ and accepted his kiss. He made himself say the words Kurt needed to hear, even if he didn't entirely believe them himself. "It's going to be okay."

"You can come visit any time you want," Puck added. "I mean, if you need to get away, or just... you know, if it gets to be too much, being by yourself."

Dave wished Puck would just let the silence be, but he knew he didn't work that way, that he had to fill the silences with words. He hoped Kurt would understand this, too.

Dave and Puck took turns being close enough to touch Kurt while they finished packing. It didn't take long. All the things they'd brought with them, the things they had in their little cabin for the past six days, they had been the bare minimum. Even so, Dave thought they'd spent more waking time in the cabin than out. It had been easier to retreat to the room, to the world containing nothing more than the three of them, than it had been to try to face the world together. Dave supposed he wasn't so surprised that this was true.

Eventually there was nothing left to do, no more little things to pick up, no more drawers to double-check, and Dave had to admit it was time to leave. Kurt opened the cabin door for them as they wheeled their bags out, and Puck held Kurt's door as he brought out his own luggage. There was really nothing left to say, either, and they took the elevator trip to the main deck in silence.

In the end, though, Dave was surprised to see it was Puck who cried, waiting in line to go through customs. Dave reached out a hand and wiped away his tears, just once, before letting Puck handle it himself - because, really, there wasn't much that was more embarrassing than having someone else publicly acknowledge an emotion you couldn't conceal.

"Fuck," Puck muttered, and swiped at his cheeks with the back of one hand. "This is so stupid. I knew this was coming, and I knew there wasn't anything I could do about it."

"You're doing something," Kurt said, smiling faintly. "Really. Just knowing I'm not the only one feeling this way, that's something."

That made Dave feel a little guilty, that he wasn't having his own display of histrionics, but he figured somebody had to be the stoic one, and as usual, it was him. He didn't want to make things worse by adding his own feelings to the mix.

Kurt stood alone, one hand on each suitcase, and watched as they moved through security. He was too far away to reach now. Dave could only see him standing there, and regret that there wasn't anything more he could do.

Puck nudged against him, almost accidentally, and Dave could see the desperation in his eyes. _Fix this,_ it said. But Dave couldn't. Instead he took Puck's hand and held it tight.

"Let's go home," he said, and Puck nodded.

* * *

Dave hadn't been allowed to leave the couch for the past half hour. As soon as Dave had sat down, Pascal had climbed into his lap and made a determined nest with his paws, kneading Dave's thigh until he thought it might disintegrate. Even Penumbra had made a brief appearance, although she'd probably just been looking for fresh cat food.

"Did you get the mail?" Puck called, checking the thermostat. "Pretty sure Connor didn't come to pick it up today. And we need milk."

"Yeah, there was nothing interesting. " Dave considered if he wanted to try to get Pascal to move, but scratched his neck a little instead. He was grateful for cats; cats were easy. "Want me to go get half a gallon? We probably need some other things, too."

"I can fend for myself for dinner, if you can." Puck sidled up next to Dave on the couch and put a tentative hand on his knee. "This... is kind of weird, isn't it?"

Dave sighed. "Yeah? I guess." It was exactly what they had been doing a week ago, the same people in the same place. But then it wasn't. He rested his hand on top of Puck's. "It's late, but we'll need breakfast tomorrow. I should just pick up some milk and bagels or something. You could come, if you wanted."

Puck shrugged. "Do you want me to?"

Dave didn't answer, mostly because he didn't know. "Sorry, you'll have to find another place to sit for a while," he told Pascal, and lifted him off his lap. Pascal made a noise that might be disappointment or annoyance or something else entirely, Dave really didn't speak cat well enough to know. "Okay. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

Puck stood and watched as Dave got up from the couch and picked up his keys and wallet. Dave could tell there was something wrong, but he didn't know what, or what to do about it, or if there even was anything he could do about it that wouldn't be worse than to keep moving. Yes, it was weird. Yes, he worried about what that might mean. And they still needed food and clean clothes, and maybe making sure they had them was the best he could do. For himself, and for Puck.

Puck didn't move, so Dave assumed that was a no to going with him. It wouldn't have made any sense, anyway. He wouldn't have done that before - if things were still normal, whatever that meant anymore. So it was probably a good thing that Dave got to walk through the aisles on his own, picking up the milk and bagels, and another bag of coffee just in case they were out, there was no reason to think so, but he hadn't checked.

The few other late night shoppers didn't really look at him. He was sure there was no visible difference anyway. Who knew, these people might all have their own messy lives. They didn't look like they did, but then neither did he, and yet...here he was.

For a moment, he wished that had been different - maybe if he looked the part he might be able to tell someone about this and have them take him seriously? But then he tried to imagine what looking the part would involve, and remembered all the many good reasons why he didn't have Kurt's life, didn't want it, didn't even want a boyfriend who had it.

He shook his head. Time to stop thinking and pay for his groceries.

* * *

Dave woke up slowly and reluctantly. Something was making noise. It sounded like might be a phone, maybe even his phone, but he was still too far into his dream to tell if it was real or not, or if it might be the doorbell, or the computer, or a school bell... he'd been at a football field, where had that gone?

He rolled over. There was somebody next to him - Puck. "Your phone," Puck mumbled, without opening his eyes. Dave realized the light and sound was indeed coming from his phone, and leaned over the edge of the bed to pick it up.

Then he saw Kurt's name. First he was worried, then annoyed, then annoyed that he was worried, or maybe the other way around. It didn't matter. He slid his thumb over the screen. "Hey," he said. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes. I guess it is," he heard Kurt's voice reply. "There's no crisis, if that's what you're asking."

Dave breathed out slowly. "That's good," he said. It sounded flat and useless.

"Yeah." Kurt sounded like he was almost laughing, but not happily. Dave looked over at Puck and noticed his eyes dark and open in the dim light of the bedroom at 2 am. "Just a second," he told Kurt, reaching over to put his hand on Puck's shoulder. "It's Kurt," he whispered. "Want me to go take it somewhere else so you can sleep?"

Puck shook his head. "Stay," he said, and Dave nodded. Kurt trusted Puck. It was probably okay.

"Sorry," he said into the phone. "I was just worried."

"Yes." He could hear Kurt's loud breath. "I'm sorry, too."

"I found one of your socks in my suitcase," Dave finally said, when the silence had stretched on for longer than he thought he could handle. It was a ridiculous thing to talk about in the dark, at two in the morning, with his boyfriend next to him, listening silently. At least Kurt must know he was there. He'd probably heard Dave talking to him. Dave felt torn - Kurt needed to talk to him, Puck needed to sleep, but also wanted Dave in bed with him. He tried to swallow down his irritation. He could do this. He could be there, do the right thing, give both of them...something.

"Was it one of the nice ones?" Kurt asked. "I didn't unpack yet."

Dave thought about it. "I don't think I could tell the difference. It was black. And not mine."

"And not Puck's?" Dave didn't know how to interpret the tone of Kurt's voice. He felt something in his chest, himself, something ridiculous like, _I know his socks, and I'm so sorry... _there was no way to put that into words that made sense.

"Don't think so," he said. "Pretty sure it's yours."

"Okay. I guess I'll get it back some day." Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry...I know it's the middle of the night. I just...Vincent called. It's morning there, and he wanted to make sure I got home safe, and I miss him, but... I'm just thinking about you a lot. I'm not sure what to do about that."

Dave nodded. He felt Puck's hand landing gently on his shoulder. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

"You do?" Kurt asked. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Dave glanced over at Puck. He didn't look annoyed, but Dave thought he must be, at least a little. He knew he would, lying awake in the dark listening to a hard conversation he couldn't be a part of.

"Say hi from me?" Puck whispered.

Dave wanted to lie down in a crumpled heap and give up. He couldn't do this, he didn't deserve it, and he was still somehow angry about both having to deal with it and not getting more.

He nodded anyway. "Puck says hello."

"Oh," was all Kurt had to say to that, and Dave almost regretted saying it...but he hated pretending Puck wasn't there, too, when he was right next to him, pressing his leg against Dave's calf. "Tell him...thank you?" Kurt finally continued, and Dave did.

"So..." Dave started. He shouldn't want to end this conversation, and he wasn't even sure if he did.

"I'll be fine," he heard Kurt say. "You should probably go back to sleep."

"Yeah. I should." Dave was suddenly enormously guilty, because he knew he wouldn't. He'd be talking to Puck, and Kurt had to know that, and...he was still saying it.

"Okay." Kurt didn't sound like he was really okay with it, but maybe that was too much to expect. Dave wondered suddenly where Vincent was. "I could call you," he suggested. "In the morning."

"Yes. That would probably be better. God, David, I'm so sorry."

"It's really fine," Dave said, as if saying it might make it true. "Or it will be, anyway. Talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay." Kurt paused for a second. "I love you."

"I love you too." The words felt strange in his mouth, but easy, too, like they'd been there just waiting for the rules to change so they could finally be said. Dave felt Puck squeezing his shoulder. "I -" he began saying, before he realized Kurt had already hung up.

Dave sighed and put his phone down heavily. Puck pressed closer against his side.

"Thank you for staying," he whispered.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I'm really sorry," Dave said, scooting down and dropping his head down on the pillow. "You shouldn't have had to listen to that."

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll be...I don't even know." Puck sighed. "It'll be okay. Let's go back to sleep."

Dave put his arm around him and kissed his head. "I love you," he mumbled. "You know that, right?"

Puck tilted his head up to kiss him back, and Dave just couldn't help feeling good, no matter how much he probably shouldn't. "Yeah, I know," Puck whispered. "Love you too, babe."

* * *

It turned out they were out of coffee after all, so Dave was glad he'd decided to buy some more. The bagels were there when they woke up, too, and he'd already cut one and slid it into the toaster when Puck came downstairs. It almost felt like an ordinary morning.

"Make me a bagel?" Puck asked, kissing him. "I'm going to check the messages."

Dave nodded, watching Puck move to the phone on the counter in the kitchen. He'd resisted giving up the land line, even though most of the calls these days were telemarketers. Puck stabbed the Play button on the old-fashioned answering machine with his finger and settled his chin on his folded hands, leaning on the counter.

"_David,"_ they heard a voice say. Puck's head jerked up. For a minute, Dave didn't even recognize the voice, because Kurt sounded positively jubilant - a hundred and eighty degree difference from the night before. He moved closer, staring at the machine as though it might have an answer to his questions, as Kurt went on. _"I got a phone call at work, and when I got home... Vincent, he was there waiting for me, in the living room." _His laugh was breathless and relieved, and Dave found himself take a steadying breath in response. _"He's going back to Barcelona next week, but... he had to come home and tell me how he felt. What he wanted. He - David, he asked me to marry him."_

"Holy shit," Puck murmured. Dave watched his face split into a huge grin. He had to grin back, even though he was experiencing some completely unnecessary feelings. They ranged from anxious to envious, but Dave decided Kurt's own excitement trumped them all. _The winning hand, _he thought._ Kurt's royal flush: Vincent and the Surprise Proposal._

But then he thought about Vincent, about what his motivations might have been. _Kurt wouldn't have noticed that, would he? _Dave really didn't like the bitter tone of that thought, but it was there, and it was probably true. Kurt was happy, and easily swept along by excitement, and that was how it was. He might see it later, and in the meantime, Dave should probably call Vincent and check that he was doing okay.

But Kurt's next words were even more surprising. _"But - I wanted you to know that my yes was conditional."_ He laughed again, this time tentatively. _"He had to be okay with - us. Me, and you, and Puck. And he said okay."_

Puck reached out and touched Dave's hand, which was clutching the edge of the countertop, offering it to hold. Dave took it, still watching the answering machine as it unfurled its secrets.

"_I just wanted you to know... that I'm sure,"_ Kurt said. _"About Vincent. I know I wasn't sure before, but I am now. It's what I want. I really hope you're okay with that."_

Dave knew there wasn't any way he could respond to that pleading tone with anything but _yes. _Luckily, this was a time for him to simply listen. Puck squeezed his hand.

"_Anyway..."_ Kurt sighed. _"I'm home. We're home. I'd appreciate it if you'd call when you get this."_ He paused. _"I still love you."_

"Jesus," Dave muttered. He closed his eyes, and laughed. "He doesn't waste any time, does he?"

"Hey." Puck gave his hand a little shake. "Imagine how it would have been if I'd been the one to surprise you with a proposal. Wouldn't you have jumped in with an answer?"

For a moment, Dave was breathless at the thought. _Yes,_ came his immediate reply in his head. It was impossible to imagine any other response, no matter how crazy. "I see what you mean," he said softly.

Puck coughed quietly. "So I guess I should call him, huh?"

Dave stilled his fingers as they reached for the phone. "Just... wait a minute, all right?"

"Sure." At the small tug of Dave's hand, Puck moved into his embrace, settling his arms around Dave's waist. Dave felt his familiar breathing, smelled his scent, and found himself relaxing.

"You said everything would be okay," murmured Puck. "This is part of the _okay,_ I think."

Dave nodded, cupping his head and holding him closer. "Yeah. I think you're right."


	10. Epilogue

**_Epilogue_**

The flyer showed up on the fridge in September. Dave noticed it peeking out from under Beth's school hot lunch menu, but he didn't make any mention of it until their next Thursday call with Kurt.

"_Only teaching one class this semester?"_ asked Kurt. Dave could hear the sound of the television in the background, full of exclamations and shouting announcers. _"Whatever are you going to do with all that extra time?"_

"I'm putting it all toward working on my thesis," he said, letting the grocery bag slither down his hip to the floor in front of the fridge. "Is that Barcelona playing?"

"_Yeah, sorry. I can't really ask Vincent to turn it down." _He didn't sound too aggravated about the noise. _"He'll be out to say hi when there's a break. Half time or whatever they call it."_ Dave thought he might have hesitated. _"So you're going to be extra busy this fall."_

"Whatever it is you want, Kurt, you might as well ask for it, rather than dancing around it." He put the milk and orange juice on the top shelf, listening to Kurt's silence. "Seriously, you're terrible at keeping anything from me. I always know."

"_Is that right?"_ Kurt gave a little laugh. "_Well, I guess I was thinking - I mean, we were thinking about - wondering if you might want to..."_

Dave paused with the jar of olives in his hand. "Kurt, are you _babbling?"_ He grinned at Puck as he wandered into the kitchen, holding Pascal on his shoulder.

Kurt took a short, exasperated breath. _"Thanksgiving. We were wondering about Thanksgiving this year. We thought maybe you might want to take another vacation together."_

"We?" He set the olives down slowly on the second shelf. "Clarify _we?"_

"_Me and Vincent. Okay, and Puck."_

Dave shot a look at Puck, who was scratching Pascal under the chin. Pascal was totally loving it, stretching his neck out flat so Puck could reach a finger along his throat and rubbing his upside-down head along Puck's ear. Puck raised an eyebrow.

"Did he ask about the cruise?" he whispered loudly. Dave closed both eyes and leaned his head against the fridge.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me." He opened his eyes again and glared at Puck. "This was your idea, wasn't it?"

"Don't blame me," Puck said, raising his hands, just as Kurt interrupted, "No, it was mine, David; Puck only talked to the travel agent."

Dave sighed, feeling the tension in his stomach increase. "Another cruise, huh? Tell me Vincent is okay with this idea. We don't have a very good track record so far."

"_That was kind of the thing. Vincent sees it something like a cross between a peace offering and a wedding present."_

He watched Puck set Pascal down on the table and give him a final pet before moving in closer to Dave. "Is that right? A wedding present for himself?"

"_No, for me."_ Kurt's laugh was intimate. _"I thought it was pretty unlikely I could get through another Hudson-Hummel Thanksgiving dinner sitting across the table from you and Puck without being really... uh, obvious about what was happening."_

Dave couldn't keep from smiling. "Okay, no, probably not." He closed the fridge and tugged the flier out from under the magnet holding it up, brandishing it at Puck. Puck nodded, and Dave rolled his eyes. "I bet you could tell your dad, Kurt. It's mine that would never understand."

"_Are you kidding? He could barely have the safe sex talk with me without dissolving into meaningless mumbling. You really think he'd comprehend this?"_

Considering Dave himself had trouble comprehending it sometimes, he thought he could see Kurt's point. The flier outlined the details of the four-night, five-day cruise out of Cape Liberty to the Bahamas, but Dave didn't care about the excursion choices or the dinner menu. He was fixed on Puck's imploring gaze, and Kurt's hopeful tone. He turned to face the stove, gathering his thoughts before going on.

"And Vincent? Is this how he wants to spend his Thanksgiving?"

"_Actually, he thought he might meet us in Nassau on day three. You know, to give us a little time together - you and me and Puck."_

Dave couldn't deny the way his heart beat a little faster at the idea. It was clear from Puck's expression that Dave was the last to know about this plan. "That's very generous of him."

"_David, you know he trusts you."_

That did seem to be the case. Puck watched him expectantly. Dave spent a few moments indulging in an anxiety attack about all the myriad ways this could harm their tentative more-than-friendship. But, really, given the opportunity to spend a long weekend with Kurt and Puck and Vincent, regardless of the location... it wasn't even a question what his answer would be.

"That sounds... great, baby." Dave felt his stomach unknot at Puck's delighted grin. "Tell Vincent thanks from me. From us."

"_You can tell him yourself in a minute. I'm pretty sure Barcelona just lost to the Santos."_ He could hear Kurt's smile clearly over the phone. _"Thank you, David. You won't regret it."_

"No," Dave agreed. He leaned over and kissed Puck, letting his soft sigh warm him from within. "No regrets."


End file.
